Poudre Patter

Milestone state (#20) – marathon #23 – was really a dual-purpose trip. The race (2015 Colorado Marathon) was May 3rd, but my wife and I arrived in Colorado on April 29th so that we could spend time with one of her cousins and also check out a few different areas, as we were planning to move to Colorado later in the year. Prior to the race, we visited the Olympic Training Center in Colorado Springs for some extra motivation!

U.S. Olympic Training Center, Colorado Springs, CO

We drove up into the Poudre Canyon on the 2nd to drive the course back. It was getting a little breezy, and I think a light rain – or was it even snow? – began to fall up in the canyon. Anyhow, it was quite beautiful there, right along the river. My sister and brother-in-law were running the full, my dad was making an attempt at a BQ, and my wife was running her second half marathon. The morning bus ride on race day was…interesting…

After wishing my wife good luck, we boarded the bus to the starting line. Half and full were on different buses, since we were going farther up the canyon. Our bus driver apparently did not know where he was going – we had to help guide him. Did they not give him directions?? We made it to the canyon road, which is good, because once you get there, there’s really only one road from that point. Somewhere along the route they had set up cones for the race on the dividing line in the road. I’m not sure why they put them so far into our lane, since there were several buses that had to make the trip, and it made our lane narrower. Needless to say, some buses had knocked cones over or ran them over. Our driver gingerly avoided the cones and – get this – actually stopped the bus, got out, and righted a fallen cone! It makes for a great story now, but we were all worried that we would get to the starting line late (if we made it at all!).

Luckily, we did make it on time. Barely. We ended up being the last bus to arrive, even though we were not the last to leave. One or two had actually passed us on the way up… We had a few minutes to hit the port-a-potties, and then the gun went off. I think my dad was still in one, but he was determined not to rush his BQ attempt preparations. The four of us (me, dad, sister, and brother-in-law) took a picture and crossed the start line together… a few minutes after the rest of the field, who was now out of sight.

Where did everyone go?

I ran with my dad – or more accurately – closely behind him for the first half of the race. It was a beautiful, winding road down the canyon. Great scenery and gradual downhill most of the way. I let him go ahead and slowed shortly after we exited the canyon into the Colorado sunshine. Sadly, we had used up all of our shade for the course while in the canyon. The second half was a bit warm from the sun beating down on us uninterrupted and rather uninspiring from a scenery standpoint since we were running away from the mountains. I started struggling around Mile 18, which is a pretty common place for my struggles to start, and had to walk a fair amount the last 5 miles. So, that was a pain, but I made it to the finish in 4:25:06 (fifth slowest marathon to date).

The course was beautiful in the canyon – and downhill – and the last 10 miles or so were less interesting. It had a nice finish near Old Town Fort Collins, and we had some great burgers after the race at Stuft. My wife bested her previous half marathon time by 2 minutes with a 2:42. My dad missed his BQ, but the happy news is that a few months later in Idaho, he smashed through that BQ barrier and is running Boston this coming April! My brother and mom were also in attendance, so it was really nice to have the whole family together (in our future, now current, town).

20 down, 30 to go…
Next Stop: Boise, ID

Phoenix Feet

Do I get a prize for posting my race review in less than a year (barely)? Hmm… well, Marathon #22 and State #19 is in the books! I completed the 2015 Phoenix Marathon last February 28th.

After some rest and some more PT for the IT band following the Indianapolis Marathon the previous Fall, training for the Phoenix Marathon went well for the most part. A little bit of shin/ankle tightness towards the end, but certainly nothing that stopped me in my tracks. I arrived in Phoenix with high hopes for a good run. My parents, sister, and brother-in-law all made the trip as well (with all but my mom running). Unfortunately my wife couldn’t make it for this one.

It was a cool morning, and we started up in hills by Usery Mountain at dawn. The gun sounded, which was appropriate since we started at a gun range, and we were off. It was a shame that it was still a little dark in the beginning because I think the first couple miles were the prettiest. They were also slightly downhill, which was nice. Things started off well, and I was holding about an 8:00/mi pace through the halfway point and was feeling pretty good.

Rio Salado Sportsman's Club - Marathon Starting Location (Day Before)

The second half was, well, kind of boring. Lots of straight neighborhood/city roads as we made our way to Mesa. That’s right, Mesa. In fact, the whole trip, I don’t think I actually set foot in the city of Phoenix. Mesa’s fine, but it wasn’t exactly the most scenic running (and we finished at a mall). Anyway, not only was it a bit chilly, which surprised me for the Phoenix area even in February, it got pretty windy the last ten miles or so. I was able to continue holding my pace until about Mile 18. Something around my left ankle started to get tight, and the combination of that with the wind meant that I slowed considerably in the last 8 miles of the race.

I finished strong, though, with an 8:35 last mile to finish in 3:40:13 – my best time since the 2011 Marine Corps Marathon (about 3.5 years prior). I was pretty happy overall and felt like I was on my way back – at least a little bit! The course was fast and mostly flat, though not very scenic except for those first couple miles in the “dawn’s early light,” if you will. The organization seemed fine; it just wasn’t that exciting of a race…

2015 Phoenix Marathon Finisher's Medal

I took it easy for the next week or two before starting to get ready for the Colorado Marathon, which was only a few days more than two months after Phoenix. 

19 down, 31 to go…
Next stop: Fort Collins, CO

Indianapolis Illotibial Experiment

Time for the latest installment of “Which state is Mike running a marathon in now?” Marathon #21 and State #18 are in the books!

For the second half of my training for Indy (nearly 2 months), I was battling through IT Band problems. When I could barely make 5 miles on one of my long runs, I decided it was time to change my approach – and that I needed help. I knew my problem and, with the help of my supportive wife, checked myself into rehab. Physical therapy, that is. Turns out I was sort of right about the source of my problems… I knew my hips were weak and a little tight. Well, I came to learn that my hips (and IT Band) were tighter than Mick Jagger’s leather pants! The PT described my IT Band as a “taut rope.” They worked me hard, mostly with hip mobility after the initial “massaging” stage, along with some core strengthening and full leg stretching. I was doing hip circles, planks, and hamstring stretches. Monster Walks, Pigeons, and Fire Hydrants. And, more recently, Spiderman Crawl :) Needless to say, the PT has done me wonders, and hopefully I can keep up my fitness and flexibility!

Anyway, back to the marathon. I was still able to do minimized training, so I was still in pretty reasonable shape for the run. The PT asked me to shave part of my leg so they could tape up my IT/knee for the marathon a few days before (on the Thursday of). That was an interesting experience… While I’m no expert on shaving my legs, I like to think I did a pretty good job! So, I arrived in Indianapolis equipped with my pink kinesio-taped leg and ready to go.

Saturday morning came, and we made our way to the start area. It was a cool, crisp, 48 degrees (and didn't get any higher than 50) and my dad and I did our best to stay warm by sitting by the fires or hanging out in the enclosed tents where the post-race picnic was to be held. I was nervous, but this time was a different kind of nervous. I wasn’t shooting for a PR or particular pace. This time I was nervous that I’d end up with the dreaded “DNF” next to my name. I’m happy to say I avoided that!

I employed a run-walk strategy, at a reduced pace, starting by running the first mile, then walking for 30 seconds. That transformed into about 7 minutes of running, 30 seconds of walking for most of the way. Sometimes during my walk breaks I would kick my right leg out to the side, as sort of a walking hip circle, in an effort to keep it loose. I think it did help. Around Mile 18, I started to tighten up a little more, and kept adjusting my run/walk ration, until the last 3-4 miles when it became more of a “run as able,” since my whole legs were tight by then! I had very little pain, if any, due to my IT band though – and slowly jogged to the (decidedly uphill) finish, claiming victory.

The course was mostly around the area of Fort Harrison State Park (Lawrence, Indiana), and was actually quite nice. The fall colors were out in force. It was mostly flat-ish with a few rolling hills (one especially tough one), and could even be a potential PR course for some. The weather, on the other hand, could have been better – but it also could have been worse! It was cloudy, except for about a half mile or so, and occasionally rather breezy, so it stayed chilly throughout. When the sun went away after its brief cameo, I regretted tossing my gloves aside. The race was well-organized and small. Afterward, we heard from some people that the race may be nearing its end because of the much larger marathon in downtown Indy around the same time, but it was mentioned in the latest Runner’s World, so that might spark a crowd!

My time was 4:37:32, which is my third slowest marathon finish, but it didn’t matter. I made it. Time to take a short break, and then start training for the next one!

18 down, 32 to go…

Next stop: Phoenix, AZ

Five Boroughs

After three years of getting denied by the New York City Marathon lottery, I got in. Finally. I was guaranteed to, actually, as a carry-over from their old "3 strikes and you're in" policy. I registered in the Spring, shelling out the wallet-emptying $266 entry fee. I was immediately pumped, although I was also a little tentative since my last one (New Orleans) didn't go so well and I was still battling some injuries.

Summer running was pretty ugly, but once I started training upon returning state-side, it went fairly well with only a few aches and pains along the way. Still, I was probably slightly under-trained. I focused on the mileage and not on speed, just trying to believe that I could do it again. Towards the last month of training I could tell I would likely run around a 4:15, with an outside chance of 4:00.

The weekend before the race, we were down in Wilmington, North Carolina to cheer my dad on as he competed in his first Ironman distance triathlon. It was a great experience and very inspiring, and I couldn't be more happy to say that he finished very strong (and came in just before my Austria time)! I was totally pumped for NYCM. My lovely fiancée (newly-engaged, three weeks prior!) accompanied me on the Megabus for our ride up to New York. That was about the only thing on the trip that was cheap. Oh NY...

It was supposed to be quite cold (I'm half-glad I took the bus to the start rather than the Staten Island Ferry, with the other half being sad that I didn't get to experience the ferry ride over), so I had purchased a small blanket and a cheap towel to keep me warm waiting in the Runner's Village. While it was a cool vibe, I was freezing my little butt off because they took my blanket at the entrance! Security was quite beefed up because of Boston earlier in the year, so I wasn't too surprised... except when I sat there freezing while others had big blankets :(

The start of the race was certainly something to behold. Even with multiple waves, it was a crazy amount of people. Everyone was super-excited and ready to go. With a singing of "New York, New York" we headed out onto the Verrazzano-Narrows Bridge. The bridge was amazing. There were so many great parts of this race, but this was certainly a highlight.

Runners on the Verrazzano-Narrows Bridge (from the 2010 race)

I was taking it a little faster than I had planned, but nothing way off pace. The crowd flowed into Brooklyn and we were welcomed nicely. I enjoyed the sights and sounds. Somewhere around Mile 9, I think, I saw Courtney and my parents (who had also made a side-trip to NYC to see me run), which was a great feeling! It gave me a boost for a mile or two before my right IT band (same one that bothered me in New Orleans) started to make its presence known. Somehow I was still able to manage to tough it out the rest of the way without major pain/injury. I did make a bathroom stop about halfway, which was a first for me! Exciting?

We made our way through Brooklyn and Queens, where I saw things like a Hasidic Jew playing Frogger through the marathoners... We crossed the Queensboro Bridge into Manhattan, where the crowds were supposed to be the best (not that any areas were that empty...). I was a little disappointed, actually, when we came off the bridge, so I whooped the crowd into a frenzy like a crazy man :)

We dipped up into the Bronx for a mile or two before returning to Manhattan and heading to Central Park. I saw a friend from college along the way (cheering), which was nice, and then we entered the park. You enter the park and still have like 2 miles to go, but it's still a rush. I saw my parents and Courtney again in the park (and once more earlier), which again was a boost. In fact, my last mile was the second fastest of the whole race! I felt like I was flying along in the park. I couldn't believe how accurately I predicted my time... 4:15:27! Other than being a little sore (IT) and now quite cold, I was pretty satisfied. It took forever to get to our special "orange parkas" once finished (walked at least a mile, I would guess), but once I had it, it was nice. Finally, after a LONG walk (and a LONG time), I was able to make my way to my fiancée and parents.

NYCM was a great experience and I had a blast. Would I do it again? Probably not. Partly because I'm trying to do one in every state, partly because it's logistically difficult due to its size (50,134 finishers! The results portion of the results book is 124 pages long!), and partly because it's freakin' expensive! Still, I recommend doing it at least once if you can.

It wasn't a new state for me (I captured New York with the 2006 Wineglass Marathon in Bath/Corning), so I'm still at 16, with 34 to go. Next up: Tennessee (Country Music Marathon in Nashville, 4/26/14)

Running Threux New Orleans

New Orleans Rock n' Roll Marathon (formerly Mardi Gras Marathon) - February 24, 2013

I came into the race knowing that I wasn't well-trained, since I was still fighting the injury bug (for a year now). The flavor of this training period was ankle/shin issues. I still was able to train a fair amount though, so I went through with it. I figured I could handle around a 9:00-9:30 pace, and that I'd help my sister pace my dad, who was shooting to crack the elusive 4-hour barrier.

It started out great. I felt good, and we were on pace for better than 4 hours. I was enjoying running through The Crescent City. Hey, you could even call this race The Big Easy! Flat, fast course, and the weather was phenomenal. But then it hit. Hard. Right around the halfway point my right IT band just blew up. Not literally, of course, but out of nowhere (wasn't even one of my concerns!) it really starting hurting. After less than a mile more I couldn't run anymore. There were even points throughout the next 12 miles that I couldn't even walk on it. I should have quit, and this was probably the closest I've ever come to DNF'ing a marathon. Let me tell you: it is NOT fun to walk for 3 1/2 hours when you should be running and you can't. 12 miles is a long, long walk. I tried my best to enjoy the scenery and nice homes near the coast, but it wasn't easy.

My dad and sister passed me out on one of the little bridges and I cheered them on as they went by... he was a bit ahead of 4-hour pace and looking strong! I slowly made my way, very unhappily, and eventually made it to the finish in 5:33:54, my slowest time by 38 minutes, which of course makes sense when you walk half of it! I was happy to find out though, that my dad had achieved his 25-year goal of breaking 4 hours! Slow Pole had graduated to Flyin' Eagle!

This was probably one of the most difficult marathons for me, mentally. While I only ran about half of it, I still finished, and will count it as State #16 even though I kind of feel like it has a miniature asterisk next to it. Only 34 to go...

A Long Workout - Ironman Austria 2012

Finally! (see previous post...)

The day was upon us. July 1st, 2012.

We arrived in Klagenfurt on Thursday evening (June 28th). We checked in at registration and headed to dinner. Well, we tried anyway. As we had found a couple times before on the trip, very few places were open all day (i.e. lunch, close, dinner). Luckily we got to the host hotel restaurant just as it was opening. A nice fish dinner and we were much happier.

After dinner we went out to drive the bike course. It was getting dark, so we didn't get to take as much time as we would have liked. It did, however, give us a good feel for the hills and the beauty of the landscape!

 

We got a practice swim in on Friday. Good thing, too. The forecast was for it to be warm, so we decided to do the practice swim sans-wetsuit just in case. As soon as we took off I couldn't breathe and freaked out. Obviously I had done this before, but I guess the anxiety about the race and realizing how real it was becoming got to me. I settled myself down a little and was fine after that initial panic. The pre-race pasta feed was in a gigantic tent, which featured food, instructions, encouragement, and an "energy team" (which was amazing).

I slept surprisingly well the night before. Not a lot by any means, but I didn't expect to sleep much at all! I guess maybe it was the weary traveler in me. The race started at 7am local time, so we got up nice and early and were on our way!

It was a beautiful morning. Just a tad warm. They had announced the night before that the temperature of the water was too warm for wetsuits, so they would not be allowed. Having somewhat expected this, it wasn't a surprise, but I was still nervous about it. Not only would it slow me down (and I'm not any kind of fast in the water), and put me in danger of missing the first cutoff (which would have been crushing), but it was a huge comfort for me since with a wetsuit I could almost just float in the water without doing anything.

We shook things out, stripped to our swimsuits, and made our way to the start. The anticipation itself was incredible. The cannon fired, the music blared, and the crowds cheered. It was time.

My sister and I started towards the back so that we could avoid some of the crowds and not get mauled too much at the beginning. I made it through mostly unscathed. I stayed calm and collected most of the way. We went out in a square loop, eventually making our way back towards shore and into a canal that flowed into the city. That was kind of neat, to have everyone on the sidelines cheering so close by, but it was also rather plant-filled. At that point, however, that was the least of my worries. I got frustrated just before that trying to FIND the canal! We were swimming into the sun and there didn't seem to be any large markers to tell us where to go! I don't swim straight to begin with, so I expect that when it was all said and done I had certainly gone at least 2.5 miles instead of the 2.4 miles. That all exited my mind when I emerged from the water a happy and tired, but excited man in just over 2 hours, coming in about 15 minutes before the cutoff.

 

 Transition 1 (T1) went as I expected. I didn't really care about my time, but wanted to make it reasonable at least. It almost worked...ha! Everything went smoothly and I don't know how people get through those so quickly. Anyway, off to the next adventure - 112 miles on the bike!

It started out as a nice change of pace. The breeze from the ride felt nice and we started out along the lake. It was beautiful. The crowds at the aid stations and support places were great. HUP HUP HUP! ZUPA! OOH ESS AH! About a third of the way in, the heat and sweat started making the saddle a little uncomfortable and I soon wished it would go much more quickly. The second loop was much more lonely than the first. There were fewer people out cheering since I was towards the back, but just enough I'd say. I was still eating and drinking well, which was one of my major concerns for the day. The pretzels did get a bit dry though, and I don't think I'd quite say I was excited to eat...

I couldn't get myself to pee on the bike, so I made a pit stop. It felt so good to get off the bike for a minute! I got back on and trudged my way through the rest. There were a few very tough hills on the latter half of the loop that were even tougher the second time around (I know, surprise surprise). I passed my sister on one of them, though she doesn't remember ;) As soon as I was coasting down those and knew I only had a few more miles to go, I started feeling good again. I knew step two was just about done - and I was going to make the cutoff! T2 was shorter, but again, I knew that "all" I had to do now was run a marathon.

My sister caught me at the beginning of the run. Actually, I caught her. She must have passed me in T2! The temperatures at this point were well into the 90's. I'm very thankful to the race and the volunteers for the copious amounts of water, Gatorade, sponges, ice, and hoses that were provided along the way. I would have literally not made it if it weren't for all of that. The run was more of a shuffle anyway. I didn't think the run course was all that exciting at the time, though as I look back, I think it was better than I first thought. Thankfully, it was nearly pancake flat. My brother and brother-in-law had commandeered a spot at a cafe/bar in the city right along the course and cheered us on as we went by. On my final lap I jumped up to ring the bell they had along the way. Then I went back and actually rang it, since I missed it on the first attempt :)

I did a fair amount of walking. That didn't surprise me too much, since I had to sacrifice a little of my training while injured. I managed it without the knee brace though (which I put in my Special Needs bag)! It got dark before my last loop, so I did the last part in the dark - again, as expected. I was surprised at how much energy I had for the end of the race. It was obviously adrenaline. Things were flowing. I couldn't believe I was about to finish and I was super pumped. It was a party at the finish line and I was the star. For a few seconds, at least! My only regret from the whole thing is that instead of "sprinting" to the finish line, and proceeding to trip up the ramp (fitting for me), I would have liked to take it all in a little more - go a little slower. It was amazing nonetheless. I AM AN IRONMAN!

All I wanted to do was lay down, drink something, and eat real food. I still remember the song playing at the end and the walk to the food tent - and the salty goodness that awaited me there... I felt terrible and I felt amazing.

Thank you to everyone who made this possible through support and encouragement - and put up with me for 6 months and beyond! It was the longest - and shortest - day of my life.

Ironman Austria 2012: Precursor

This entry is a long time coming (who doesn't wait until a year and a half later to post about a race...right?) and here it goes:

The Beginning
I always knew I was a little crazy. I didn't know what it was until high school. In college, I thought there was no way I would ever be able to do one. Then, for some strange reason, I had to know if it was possible. Like any good distance runner or thrill-seeker, I wanted to challenge myself and find my limits. I think I found my limit. It was hiding somewhere in the city of Klagenfurt, Austria.

I have lots of people to blame...I mean thank...for putting this idea in my head, or perhaps feeding it. It was 2010 when I first considered the possibility. I started meeting people who had done one and people I already knew started doing them. A group of running friends put together a challenge to do the Ironman Florida (IMFL), and before I knew it, I was part of it. Then my sister threw a new card in the mix. Her friends were training for Ironman Austria (IMAT). Done. The decision was made. I had a year and a half.

Step One: Learn to Swim
This is the part that scared me the most. Considering my idea of swimming was sitting in a hot tub or playing frisbee at the beach, I had a long way to go. I took swim lessons as a toddler, but that's almost like saying I loved my tricycle as a kid, and then entering the Tour de France. My favorite line was that "I knew how not to drown." I shopped around for a gym specifically for the pool. I found one I liked (and my wallet begrudgingly agreed) and I jumped in.

Step Two: Buy a Bike
The bike I had certainly wasn't getting me anywhere. It had a lopsided tire from lack of use (2+ years) and broken gears thanks to drunken Bucknellians. I knew that to be serious about this (and make it easier), I had to get a decent road bike (or hybrid). After some shopping around, I narrowed it down to a Cannondale or Trek. The hardest part was finding one my size! I went with the Trek 2.3 - now all I had to do was not fall over ;)

Step Three: Run, Run, Run
This was the easy part. Right? I've been running since 7th grade and I certainly am built for running. I had run 16 marathons. I had it down. Oh right, this will be AFTER a 2.4-mile swim and a little 112-mile bike ride. Still, I can't drown on the streets.

Training
I thought that I would at least have the cardio down from all the running. Wrong again. Completely different. After a couple of April jaunts in the pool loaded with flailing and gasping, I decided to sign up for eight one-hour individual sessions with a swim coach. I could get across the pool once. It was the next 179 lengths that presented a problem. I figured not only would I get feedback and taught the right techniques, but also some training tips and drills. Best move ever. I struggled early on, and backstroke seemed to be easier (because I could breathe more normally), but as I spent more and more time in the pool, things improved. All you have to do is get in the water and do it.

Meanwhile my bike had come in around the end of May and I was learning to use clip pedals and maneuver a significantly lighter bike. Finding shoes was as difficult as I expected (for having very wide feet due to my extra toes). I'm still not sure if they're big enough. I went for some short rides on the BWI bike trail and practiced clipping and unclipping. Mounting and dismounting. Eventually I felt caged in on the trail and decided it was time to be a big boy and hit the streets.

Start small. I wasn't about to jump straight to an Ironman distance triathlon, so I found a sprint in nearby Virginia. The (first) big day was July 31, 2011. I was excited and nervous. I was about to embark on a new adventure. Read about it HERE.

I had so much fun that I didn't stop training right then and there! I signed up for a Half (70.3) in PA. To help ease my mind, and add some buoyancy, I purchased a wetsuit. I didn't have much of a chance to practice in open water, so going straight was not a strength of mine. September rolled around soon enough - read about my half HERE.

I was halfway there and there were nine months until the big (big) day. It was time to devise a plan. I looked up training plans, read articles, and asked for advice. Pre-made training plans are great, except that unlike a pro triathlete, most people have to work and all that crazy stuff. Don't get me wrong, there's still time to do other things, but you have to arrange and re-arrange things to make it work. My six-month plan began in January 2012.

It started out great. I was running really well, with cardio boosted by the swimming and legs boosted by the cycling. I had purchased an indoor bike trainer to do some riding in the winter and even went to a few spin classes at the gym. Then, in the first week of February, I came down from a jump shot at basketball (why was I playing basketball this year???) and felt something above my left knee. Pushing off the wall in my next swim led to some knee pain. Fearing the worst (ACL or meniscus tear), I shut down and got an MRI. The results were good - no tears, just some chondromalacia, which basically is saying I have a sore knee... I did have a slight tear in my quad, which is probably what I felt. Luckily I could still bike some and swim with arms only and the pull buoy.

Slowly but surely, after a month off, I worked my way back into training. Things were starting to get better. I was able to run. I was biking well. I was making progress in the pool. I met a cute girl on St. Patrick's Day (who recently said "yes!"). I started playing kickball and softball. As should have been expected, I had some tweaks and aches from those too. Nothing major, though, luckily. I completed my second half in May (Lake Anna, VA). I had a pretty annoying flare up of my ITB at the tail end of the run, but I was able to work that out. Before I knew it, it was June. Only a few weeks to go.

Most of our trip plans had been devised, and I finally decided how to transport my bike. The logistics were a little more difficult than I first expected, since I was on business travel in Utah the week before we left for Europe. Then I went straight from there to New Hampshire for a family wedding, and we flew out of Boston from there. I had my local bike shop pack it for a small fee and I shipped the bike to my uncle in NH, and then we carried them as checked luggage (I bought a soft travel case). It was under the 50-lb limit, but if the person checking it knew it was a bike, they charged about $200 (which we found out on the way back - got away with it on the way!). I did one last run in New Hampshire before heading to Munich. Go time.

Heartbreak Hell

[This obviously is a tragedy for all of humanity. I offer thoughts from a runner's perspective. Thoughts that were hard to put to words until tonight, and even now, are a struggle.]

I walked out of work yesterday wearing my Boston Marathon jacket, carrying my drawstring bag from the race. I hadn't brought those things because it was Marathon Monday. I usually have them these days and I am very proud to wear the jacket. But it wasn't a usual day anymore. I left work an hour early, fighting back tears. I couldn't concentrate. I couldn't comprehend it all. Explosions at the end of the Boston Marathon just didn't make sense.

Boston is our Mecca. When you tell someone you run marathons, they inevitably ask if you've run Boston. It's a finish thousands upon thousands of runners aspire to one day achieve. One for which people put in countless hours, days, weeks, months, even years, of hard work. Of pain and agony. Of highs and lows. Of hope and dreams.

I was lucky enough to run two years ago. My Boston story was not unlike any other. Several attempts to "BQ" (achieve a Boston Qualifying time) came up short. One race I missed the time by just a few seconds. In Fall of 2010, I collapsed at the finish line in New Hampshire, having qualified by a mere 3 seconds. And in April 2011, I was blessed enough to celebrate all the way from Hopkinton to Copley Square, and raise my arms in exultation crossing the finish line.

Then yesterday I heard the news, saw the pictures, watched the videos, and read the accounts. I recognized the places immediately, as if it was yesterday. While I wasn't there this year, this hit very close to home. I could have been running. My family could have been there watching. If my dad had qualified, it would have been about where he would finish. It could have been my sister. I knew people that were running this year. As runners, we are part of a community. A big family. And, by extension, so are the volunteers and spectators who support us every step of the way. They selflessly take time out of their schedules to support us, put up with our running talk and overall nuttiness, and at races, encourage complete strangers. It was all too real. It was my running family. Emotionally, it shook me hard.

When I got home I was compelled to go for a run. Courtney came over for some company and brought her running shoes, apparently knowing I might want to run. I ran 8+ miles (longest in a few months) on Sunday, so my legs were tired, and on top of that still recovering from various injuries. It didn't make sense to run. But then, it was the only thing that made sense to do. It was all I could do at that point. I wore my Boston shirt, of course. The run helped. Having Courtney's company helped. I called my dad and my sister, and that helped.

Still, today I was in sort of a daze. I worked (until the power went out in my area) and was semi-efficient. I wore my Marine Corps Marathon shirt (now that Boston's was dirtied). The questions are all still fluttering around upstairs, but the biggest is always "Why?" Patriot's Day, Marathon Monday. A day celebrating the fight and perseverance in Americans. 25,000 people that stop at nothing to get there. Hundreds of thousands more supporting them and enjoying all the festivities on a beautiful day. A celebration of the human spirit.

Instead, an 8-year old boy, waiting for his father, now waits for him in Heaven. Two others lost their lives. Nearly 200 with injuries, many serious. I can only imagine the pain and suffering that those directly affected by this can be experiencing, and my heart goes out to all of them, their families, and their friends.

Through all the horror and devastation, we have to find a way to see that human spirit. That it cannot be broken. We have to see the hundreds of first responders, EMTs, volunteers, and civilians who rushed to the aid of those injured in the blasts. We have to see the runners who continued running straight to the hospitals to give blood. We have to see the people who opened their business and homes to those in need of food, water, heat, or somewhere to stay. We have to see the outpouring of support from the community, Americans, and those around the world.

Does this mean that I will never run again in Boston if I am fortunate enough to qualify again? Does it mean that I don't plan to run New York? Or Chicago. Not a bit; it ensures I will run them. We will not be beaten. We must continue to see the spirit that marathons embody. The spirit of the people of Boston, the people of America, and the human race. And that spirit cannot be broken.

Strengths & Weaknesses

As a tall, skinny dude, I always like to joke that my weakness is my strength. After typing that I realized that it could mean that I'm really strong and that is a weakness, or how strong I am (not) is my weakness. While I consider myself athletic, it's the latter...

As with anything you do, strengths and weaknesses are an important factor in Ironman training. You have to plan your training accordingly, and both sides can affect your training a great deal.

I think everyone knows that the best things to work on are your weaknesses. As a veteran marathoner I figure that my strength will be the run. Therefore, what I need to work on the most is the swimming and biking. While I knew how to basically not drown, I started learning how to swim for real last Spring. Seems like that is going pretty well, and I think the lung capacity and cardiovascular endurance I've built has certainly come in handy. That didn't come right away though. Breathing while running is COMPLETELY different from breathing while swimming! As for the biking, I have strong legs from running, so the back/shoulders and butt are likely going to be the problem spots :)

One of my biggest weaknesses is my lack of will-power to STOP doing things. Like when I don't take enough time off for an injury. Or, the latest problem: I couldn't say no to playing basketball this year (where I get at least one injury a season) even though I'm training for an Ironman - which is the most important goal right now. So after a good first month of training I proceeded to "tweak" my knee at last week's game, ever so slightly, when I was coming down from a jump shot. Hopefully a tweak is all it is, but I've tried swimming and biking and now I'm resorting to time off. The worrier in me is concerned about the medial meniscus. Keep your fingers crossed for me that I heal up quickly...

[Just signed up for kickball this spring - that seemed pretty harmless...]

Lastly, I'd say I have a lot of heart, will-power, and grit. Those things have gotten me through a few races in the past - including most marathons, probably. There's a part of that which scares me. I know that I can push myself past my limits. That's great for an Ironman, and perhaps even necessary, but then where's the line? I don't plan on quitting if I feel like crap, but I sure as hell am not doing this all to not finish the race.

Time Management 101

Well, here it is. The first post of the year. Didn't think it would take this long, but I guess you could say I've been a little busy...

January 2nd was the "official" start to my 6-month training period for the Kärnten Ironman and it didn't take long for me to realize that my time management skills were not quite up to snuff for an undertaking this big. Trying to sandwich in 3 or 4 runs, 3 swims, and 3 bike rides every week is not the easiest thing I've ever done. Go figure. I knew it would be tough, but I didn't realize how much more planning I had to come up with; more than just the workouts.

When you start training for an Ironman triathlon, I think you learn pretty quickly that you need to be more careful about how you schedule your training, meals, sleep, and the remainder of the day. Oh yeah, and you should probably figure out how to throw some rest days in there too! Right now I'm shooting for a rest day once every two weeks, depending on how things go (I might need one every week).

I always have considered my time management skills to be above average, but often I feel like I'm lying to myself and I know it. Time to get back to basics. Or maybe these are not-so-basics?

Thus far, I have been successful in my desired improvements on the sleep factor. Last year I averaged about 7 hours per night, and am nearly up to 8 hours per night so far this year. Yes I keep track, I'm a nerd like that. Next step, getting that sleep at the right hours! Getting up at 10 on the weekends is just not cutting it. For example, yesterday I had planned to get up at 8 AM for an easy swim, go to church and then do my long run after church. Guess what? I heard my alarm at 8, and then mumbled myself in and out of waking consciousness until about 10:30. Well there goes that plan. Throw in a full-time job, IM basketball and trying to have a life, and you got quite the full plate. I can't imagine what people with kids do! Or people with lives already for that matter ;)

I was going to post about food and meal times, but I think I'll save that as the topic for the next post.

Also, I'm starting to regret living on the third floor.