In Denial

PT was going well and I’ve experienced significant progress until we tested my run on the treadmill. First minute at an easy pace was going well until the treadmill was turned-up to a moderate 6.5 and within thirty seconds I felt a tinge on my inner, left calf. I hit the “stop” button. I was disappointed. My PT explained it was a result for compensating for the injured foot and not rolling through the step properly.

With a week left until the Mountain Man Triathlon, the triathlon race may become a biathlon for me. Correction, not "triathlon race" but “triathlon experience” -- a race means competing. I'm looking just to finish and determine if this format is something I enjoy. With swimming and cycling legs of the sport, I don’t seem to have a problem-- actually though, the slightly torn, rotator cuff from years ago is sore and effects my strength when swimming. If I plan to continue with triathlons, I’ll have to consult with the doctor about surgery or further PT programs to strengthen the shoulder.

Otherwise, things seem to be falling into place, as my friend/colleague, Dave, introduced me to a former swim coach who is interested in coaching us. Already, her whistle and stopwatch intimidates me!

Like my first marathon, I have nervous anticipation for the day to arrive. The unknown of how I’ll fair on race day is gnawing at me. I’ve never competed in swimming or cycling and don’t know what to expect, hence there is doubt. There’s only one way to overcome fear and doubt, confront it.

Other stuff:

The past two week-ends, I've been landscaping our barren backyard and the transformation is amazing -- once again, in addition to flowers and shrubs, we know have grass again! Yay, grass! Although I'm an Urban Planner who reviews numerous plans (landscape plans as well) for approval, the wife doesn't trust my landscaping instincts. Nor do I think she realized that once I get started on landscaping, I'm committed to it until it is finished. Hence, there was no stopping me over the extended 4th of July week-end with ten hour days of non-stop, landscaping fun!

Perhaps what the wife doesn't know, works to my advantage? What doesn't help is my wife's and mother's conversation where my mom revealed that my grandfather taught me how to lay custom stone patios using a hammer and chisel -- not good. Thank god, our backyard has limited space and already has a patio, otherwise I will be hammering away.

The other day, I surprised the wife by purchasing her "Breezer Utown 8" and hiding it under the clothes in a bedroom. I explained it was not a bike but rather a piece of art to hang clothes upon. Isn't that the same function of the bed in the other room? A place to store clean clothes?

Injuries Happen To Other People

The "...you're not very flexible..." observation comment by the PT while manipulating my feet rolled-off my back as I kind of, sort of knew and dismissed as a given. However, the one assessment exercise caused some concern was: simply standing on one foot then the other. The right foot was no problem as the ankle fought back to stand firm. When I stood solely on the left foot, I became the falling-over drunk at a road side sobriety test. "I'm not going to make it!" I yelped after a few seconds. Then, Whamo! I transformed into a stumbling, albeit sober, injured runner!

Earlier in the assessment I stated to the PT my desire to be healed in two weeks for the triathlon. After the fall I then suggested, "Maybe, I could do the first two legs of the triathlon and then decide how the running portion is going? Drop-out if necessary, y'a know?"

We then did a few, resistance band exercises with the lowest of all colors, yellow, which was then followed with ultrasound therapy on the troubled area. I'm sure it may help but it is not the same impact and feeling I get from the electrodes of a TeNS machine -- it's crack for an ailing back!

After reading the LOOPSTERs posted comments, the Physicians had a similar reply, "It's your body. Do what you want." Then, she added, "We could put screws in later if you want."

If I Only Had X-ray Glasses

If I only owned a pair of the X-ray glasses, the kind you find in the back of comic book, then I wouldn't need to visit the doctor today for "My Left Foot", unlike the movie. With the exception of the Gaspin' In the Aspen Trail Run 15K, I've mostly been off my feet. I've been cycling and swimming, to get over the fear factor, I even had my first open-water swim in wet suit last week which left me confident as the wet suit will prevent me from drowning.

On Friday and Saturday though, I began to rotor till my back yard to plant new grass seed and plants. Immediately after Friday's session, my left foot flared-up and by Sunday, I was limping around the house as the pain traveled upward to the outside of my leg. Today though, for the most part, the foot seems okay yet I can feel a dull pain and so marked the area with pen prior to my doctor's visit.

Shortly, I'll get an expert diagnosis from the doctor-- I'd love it though if she wore X-ray glasses!

With Saturday's Gaspin In the Aspen Trail Run 15k race already a distant memory and despite good intentions of visiting a doctor on Monday to examine my injuries, simply, "I ain't got time to bleed!" as exclaimed by surprising gubernatorial victor, author and movie star for the ages, Jesse Ventura in his memorable "Predator" one-liner.

Work, life, training and race schedules don't permit the luxury of time to take care of oneself as THIS Saturday I'm running, perhaps even racing if shredded quads heal, the Northland Hospice Run or Walk 5k or 10k. This race is the fourth of six races of the 5th Annual Blue Cross Blue Shield of Arizona Flagstaff Summer Runner Series organized by Northern Arizona Trail Runner's Association. The good news: no trail running on the side of the mountain with charging elk! Rather, the race is held on city streets, an urban trail and some dirt roads but nonetheless there is some elevation to consider but not as challenging as last Saturday's race -- thank god!

Tonight, I'll test the foot, again, as I return to a training schedule since the S.D. marathon. Tomorrow night, we plan to bike then swim in our frigid lake for an open water swim in preparation for the 25th Annual Mountain Man Triathlon on July 19th. Like I wrote, "I ain't got time to bleed!"

A Dumb, Fun Summer Night Is All!

"Don't you just love racing early in the morning than having the rest of the day and night to goof around?" I told McIntire who nodded in agreement.



After the race for a post-race breakfast, an impromptu decision was made to stop by Brandy's Restaurant and Bakery which so happened to be featured on the Food Networks' "Diners, Drive-ins and Dives" hosted by Guy Fieri. With sweet potato, french fries on the menu, we quickly switched to lunch for their amazing sandwiches, fries and a post-race beer. Clearly, a wise decision.



By mid-afternoon the clouds parted, the temperatures rose and pushed Cleveland back to where it belong in Ohio, thereby returning Summer to Flagstaff. After a long nap, it was time to enjoy the city by meeting a couple of friends for drinks and appetizers at Monsoons prior to seeing a play,"Expecting Isabelle", at the community playhouse, Theatrikos Theater Company.





"Expecting Isabelle" was a fast-paced, humorous play about infertility and the quest for a baby. There was a tearjerker moment but being a manly, man, I quickly recovered clenching my eye lids shut to prevent the waterfall.

Summer did arrive as evident of the Fajita Cook-off festival across the street with a trumpet playing band with their notes penetrating the theater's wall. Throughout the play, I thought the south of the border,music was an odd choice for the play until intermission when we exited the playhouse to see the bright lighted, festivities occurring across the street. "We have to hit that after the play!" I said. And, we did.

By the end of the night after a few beers and some sort of Irish shot ordered for all of us, I transformed into "Planner Man" with his Super Hero Mexican Wrestlers cohorts. Using our "police powers", we saved the citizenry by enforcing public welfare, security, morality and safety. Well, maybe not the morality portion as the bar photo shot infers we're a little loose on the morality super hero powers. Just a dumb, fun summer night is all!

Gaspin In The Aspen '09- Race Report

My night's sleep was broken by an urgent bark by Milo, my former running partner and an old mountain dog, who immediately had to go outside non-stop from 2:30 a.m until the sun broke. Sensing the old dog's determination to repeat this pattern throughout the night, I flipped on NPR, hoping the soothing news reports would calmly put me back to asleep upon the couch where I could easily rise to open and close the sliding, glass door until the morning sun breaks. At one point, the newsreporter on the radio claimed there was a zero percent chance of rain today. "That's odd! The otherwise wet ground would indicate else-wise. " I thought. Yet, I was happy because the moisture will dampen the dusty dirt and prevent it from becoming airborne from the hundreds of stampeding feet participating in the Gaspin' In the Aspen Trail Run 15k race.

Arriving on time with perfect weather conditions, high 50's, I stretched more so than usual because this was my first run since the San Diego Marathon and I had a few nagging injuries such as a tweaked hamstring, a blister and some sharp pain on the left side of my foot. Nonetheless, I needed a run and the surroundings of this race in the pines and aspens with a bunch of other runners was the ideal time and place. Also, I just like this race as there are a bunch of familiar people and faces that I'm recognizing and becoming associated with in our "newer" community of Flagstaff.

Events on the mountain bring back memories of Winter Park, Colorado where locals were colorful and ingenuous. Today, I found this same spirit as David McKee created a starting line with a duct tape! My god, add another use for the multi-purpose, fix-all material!

Prior to the race, the wife and I met with the McIntire's for a little pre-race strategy of to start strong, pass the headphone wearing runners early and avoid the "running friends/partners" who run shoulder-to-shoulder as if they were in a park oblivious to the runners trying to pass on this single-track course.
I was also able to meet "AZ RunHike" who is a fellow Runner's World Loopster! Last night, I received a message that his race day clothes are yellow and I replied that I would be wearing white and green. Through the process of elimination (one other runner in yellow), I introduced myself where I learned he recently embraced "Chi Running" which helped him at San Diego by taking a 1/2 hour off his time.


Overhearing our conversation, a fellow runner retorted, "Isn't that what trail running is all about? Chi Running?"

"Hmmm, I'm sensing there is an overt message in this conversation that I should take note of for this race." I thought. "I better just enjoy the scenery rather than shred my legs racing."

Over a blowhorn, the instructions were explained. "I swept the course and it is well marked but please be aware there are about 300 head of cattle, elk, deer and horny toad on the trail. So, be careful of cowpies and holes. . . this is a trail run. . . seriously, this is a trail run."

The racers and a runner (a distinct title difference here to which I'm referring to myself) were anxiously awaiting the start. Below, Vince dressed in white and red and Manager/(owner?) of the local specialty run store, A Runner's High, discusses the initial course layout with Gerrad, the fastest man on earth --well, at least in Flagstaff.

The rest of us, about four rows beyond the elite runners pray for the race to start.


Or, get lost in thought, "Hey, at least I look cool in these glasses... just maybe, just maybe, by miracle I could win! Where's that girl with the direct line to God? Put a word in for me, will y'a? Oh yea, I must remind myself to admire the scenery on this run."


Waiting, for the gun (below)


Still waiting for the gun with some nervous joking.

And, they're off!
Unfortunately, the wife was not mobile with her camera so permit me to describe with as a few words a possible -- beautiful pine and aspen trees, a soft trail with scattered branches and rocks but most important, no dust coating our mouths and lungs! Oh yea, a few hills along the way.

Personally, I started fine but the legs are not fully recovered yet. While on the run, I listened to my breathing and pushed as best I could --comfortably taking the first hill as I saw David McIntire running strong and past me. I let others pass with the thought, "I will eventually catch-up and it is a long race."

Early on a downhill portion, I landed on the ball of my left foot that caused a shooting pain -- clearly, my deep blister didn't care about running today and the mysterious pain on the left side of the foot hurtfully exclaimed, "I second that motion!". So, as instructed by the body's revolt, I took in the scenery at a comfortable pace. Sadly, I didn't see the elk as some others had. I finished in 87 minutes and change. Not what I wanted but it was my first day back.

Monday, I'll visit the doctor to look at the injuries from three weeks ago. After the x-ray of my foot and have the blister area checked-out. I'm quite sure the Doctor will tell me to "Rest." (I just noticed the dirt ring around my ankle. What got in my lungs? I know my nose was clogged.)


Lastly, my preminition was correct, Sara Wagner won the women's race but their was someone new for the men, but who? For now, it was a good local race with locals; new people (a Loopster, too) and those who were visiting Flagstaff. Below, are those who also had a good time at the race!

Gaspin' In The Aspen Trail Run

Gaspin’ in the Aspen is what I’ll be doing tomorrow at the 15k Gaspin’ in the Aspen Trail Run. Truly, this is a beautiful trail race among pine, roaming elk and of course, Aspen groves where between breaths you could lose yourself in the beauty or being caught-up in the race – just ask my wife, who along with three others, were concentrating so hard on racing that they missed the trail markers and went off course for 4 miles only to have to hitch hike a ride back to the start. I, too, had a moment where I had to stop and seek the trodden flags across a field, but nonetheless these are great stories to recollect.

With the 15k Gaspin in the Aspen, if you start too fast, you won’t have anything in the tank at the end. Boy isn’t that the truth and I should know it so well after my San Diego debacle which I’m still recovering with some tendonitis in my left foot and a blister. I just hope there is something left in the legs for this race. The minimum and maximum elevations are 7,960 and 8,309, respectively, with an elevation climb of 1,230 and descent of 1,223 for an overall elevation gain of 7’.

Tomorrow will be my first day back running and what a way to start – a race! Hopefully, I could redeem myself. By the way, I had a premonition – Sara Wagner will win the women’s race tomorrow! Actually, that was easy call as she is our local phenom runner and typically wins all the races held in the 5th Annual Blue Cross Blue Shield of Arizona Flagstaff Summer Running Series organized by the Northern Arizona Trail Runners Association. As for myself, I will finish...with pride...I dare not think of PR as this is what got me in trouble the last time. If it happens, it happens. (Shhhh....yea, but deep down I really would like to set one but I must be cool about it and not let the adrenalin overrun rational thought!)

Happy trails and good races everyone! I’ll post some race pics tomorrow.

Civil War: Conscious Self vs. the Body

My body is rejecting me. My body is rejecting my “conscious being” and hating all that I’m doing to make it better, stronger and capable. Wow, how deep is that? These apparent aches and pains are part of the body’s civil war causing unrest in my brain with my conscious self trying to battle back.

“Oh sure, Body you may have won a battle or two but you will not win the war!” The mind exclaims after having been bed ridden for the past two days with a splitting headache - evidence of the civil war and the battle between the left and right hemisphere of the brain yet both sides of the brain not fully realizing they’re part of my corporal being, though. However, the logical, sequential, rational, analytical, objective left side of the brain is more apt to come around to my conscious state.

My “conscious mind” is pushing my body to do more than it desires – thank god, I have a “Strong Will” on my battle lines. If it weren’t for good, old, reliable, “Strong Will” charging to my rescue in a few races, then the body may sounded the horn for retreat and quit.

Recovering from the San Diego Marathon still continues as I drowned my disappointments by throwing a "Revel In The Recession Whine and Cheese Party" where guests were to bring a ten dollar or less bottle of wine. Pictured above with a bloated head and body is a result of too many glasses of wine and testing all the food I personally prepared. My god, I'm not as young as I used to be...two days to recover! The body is still recovering from blisters. I hope in time for this week's 15k trail run.

The rental wet suit arrived today...much improved!

Wet Suits Allow Little Air to Escape

With the Mountain Man Triathlon only six weeks away, I decided to get fitted for a wet suit today. Little did I realize that wet suits allow very little air to escape. After eating a three bean burrito imagine my surprise when...

San Diego Marathon: Final Thoughts

(a commentary video is at the bottom of this post)

With past marathons completed and months of training of leading to the Starter’s pistol “pop” of the San Diego Rock-n-Roll Marathon, I had a race day strategy and a mental arsenal to overcome the wall and just about any unforeseen problem thrown at me. After the Starter’s pistol “Crack!” was replaced with a roar of applause and cheer by runners and spectators, what I wasn’t prepared for was the adrenalin pumping through my veins replacing my well, laid-out plan with stupidity and delusions of greatness. Out went my cautious approach to hold back the reins and stay at the back of the 3:30 pace group. Out went my thoughts to carefully pace myself with the Garmin. Out went my approach to remain calm and relax during the first 10k. Instead, I got caught-up in excitement of being in the wave of the second corral.

Due to the number of runners, we shuffled past the Starting line then were off and I was “feeling it!” I thought to be a seasoned runner but at this moment I was a neophyte. Perhaps, in my past marathons being placed deeper in corrals and further from the Starting Lines, I was nicely forced into a slower pace. This morning though, I was the thoroughbred sprinting to the finish line just as the gates opened.

As you may know, horses are said to have the intelligence of a three year old. My first mile I completed in 5:12 according to my Garmin. During this first mile, I thought the Garmin to be broken when viewing the pace, however, in hind sight, I found myself weaving past others and running way in front of my pace group. I did everything that I was not supposed to do – weaving, sprinting, not running at my training pace, changing my race plan and missing my water stations. How did I all of sudden become stupid? I was chasing something I wasn’t prepared to run at the race, a Boston Qualifying time.

My hope for this race was to take the next step forward and be within fifteen minutes of the qualifying time such I could then attempt at the Las Vegas Rock-n-Roll Marathon. I got caught-up in the hype, words of encouragement and an elusive dream that seemed to present itself this day.

After mile three and reading a 7:14 pace, I was full of myself. Perhaps, too full of myself as g.i. cramps quickly sounded the alarms for a pit stop. As I ran, I panicked seeking the elusive blue port-o-potties. Businesses along the course were not open either at this early hour. Hoping the cramps would subside, it wasn’t until Mile Marker 6 when I was able to run off the course to find relief. Noting my Garmin, I was crushing my PR for a 10k as I recalled 44 minute appearing upon my Garmin. Irrational thoughts still filled my head, “You can still do this! Wow, look at your time if you’re in out quickly, you could make up the time over the course and still possibly qualify?” Then, I saw how sweat soaked my clothes were. “This is not good.” I thought as I don’t perform well in humidity. Having missed water stops and not carrying my Gatorade bottle while running the race was another mistake of changing something on race day. I needed to hydrate soon.

While nature took it’s course, there is nothing worse then hearing the runners rush and rumble past. “How far behind the 3:30 pace group will I be?” As I exited, a sign displaying 3:40 swooshed passed. I tried to remember: start slow. Yet, I returned to my new found quest. I past the 10k mark at 51:01 minutes. Yep, that was about right with my unscheduled stop and the time correlated with the Garmin.

Recalling the course map and description, from mile 7 to 11 it was uphill. Mile 8 began the run on the highway which was both uphill and awkwardly tilted. Somewhere around 9 and struggling to find a line where I wasn’t running on an uphill and on a slant, I remembered a blogger’s post to run upon the shoulder where it was little more flat, yet uphill. This seemed to help but running upon the shoulder may have been to a detriment because the shortest distance between two points was not possible and added nearly a half mile to the run. My split at the half was 1:49:52 which, despite my pit stop, was just “okay” as my original plan was to run a negative split. But, did I blow it too early with my fast pace?

By this time, my clothes were soaked and heavy with sweat. Although there were water stations, the Cytomax stations were limited and not available at each station (something I expected). By limited, during the early stretches of the race if you missed the first two tables, you missed the Cytomax. One twelve year old volunteer had an odd sense of humor of holding-out the cup then withdrew the cup as the runner reached out for it. I was that runner. Yet, I did laugh about it because it was pretty funny as I fumbled and let out an “Oh, crap!”

Even though my 23 mile practice run weeks prior was cramp free, I was prepared for my normally scheduled onset of hamstring cramps at mile 18. However, due to the half mile extra miles I ran by taking the outside shoulder the regularly scheduled cramps were set to arrive at 17.5. Adding the other factors of: my blazing start an otherwise PR for six miles; high humidity and missing some of the electrolyte stations; my cramps reared their ugly heads around mile 16 and, boy, did they wring my hamstrings! I countered with stretches, compression and run-walk. Nothing was working. Miles later, unexpectedly the cramps migrated to my calves and Achilles which each feeling as if the muscles were ripping themselves from my bones. At one point, all the muscles cramped in unison! What the heck was going on? This has never happened before! I didn’t have a solution nor knew what to do. Miserable, soaking with sweat and overheated, I could do nothing but walk.

At this point, certainly the BQ was out of reach, a PR was gone and even my tertiary goal of staying sub 4 was in jeopardy and quickly eroding if I couldn’t muster a jog. My arsenal was depleted and I was dejected. I hated myself for blowing my plan. I hated myself for choosing the wrong socks on race day. To make matters worse, a huge blister formed at my Achilles, broke and bleed into my shoe. Two other huge blisters formed the balls of each foot, yet didn’t break thereby causing a bizarre walk-run gait as I tried to gently land on my feet to no avail. In turn, this awkwardness was exacerbated by uncontrollable muscle spasms. I hated myself. I then turned this hated outward as I began to despise the cheerleaders shouting in my ear, “You’re doing great! You’re almost there!”

“Really, do see how I’m moving? I have five miles to go!” I mentally shouted but kindly replied, “Thank you!” I smiled and gave a high-five when a hand appeared.
If there would have been a bus back to the finish, I would have gladly stumbled through the door. Since there wasn’t, I had no other choice to hobble onward. During this time, I thought a lot about a bunch of things. Certainly, I did achieve one of my goals of being downright, painful miserable like the marathoner at P.F. Chang’s in January. Yet, I expected this uncontrollable pain to follow after achieving a “PR or BQ” time. I learned huge lessons for December’s Las Vegas marathon: I need to train at the pace I expect to run at the race; start slow; carry my water bottle; wear the same socks I train in; and, avoid high humidity races. I was that guy in the commercial spraying others with his sweat. In fact, I was able to remove my shirt and wring it out with a stream sweaty, water. (The grossness of running)

Finally at mile 25 and after stopping in a medical tent to get my blood pressure checked and bandaged feet and ankle, someone shouted, “Any one want a beer?”
“Yea! It can’t hurt me now!” I enjoyed the last 1.2 miles of the course.

San Diego Rock -n-Roll Marathon:The Start with The Running Bob

Typically, we fly to the city two days prior to the race in order to avoid the craziness associated with packet pick-up and get a full days rest in prior to the race. Instead, the current economic depression caused us to save money where possible such as shopping for cheaper air fare and hotel rates. Booking well in advance of the race, I scored a hotel deal yet had to carefully plan our air travel such there was enough time for packet pick-up, an early lunch and dinner in order for full night sleep.

Arising at 4:45 a.m. Saturday morning, the skies were clear and the sun broke the horizon. It would be a beautiful, warm morning leaving Flagstaff. Although walking to the regional airport would have been ideal, we took the world’s greatest car, a Honda Element, to the airport as the weather would be uncertain, possibly monsoon rains, upon our return some five days later.

Flying U.S. Air, the brief thirty or forty minute to Phoenix was uneventful, however clouds thickened as approached Phoenix airport. Although the mile long walk between gates took some time, our excitement associated with a vacation was filled with laughter and hope as quickly floated above the “moving the sidewalk” to our connecting flight to San Diego.

With a Zone 4 ticket clutched in our hands, we patiently watched zones 1, 2 and 3 board the ‘jumbo’ jet and played a game of “Guess who is running the marathon?” The sure bets were those wearing a t-shirt displaying previous runs presumably they raced. Others were wearing their race day shoes and stretched in line while others you just couldn’t decide.

Boarding the plane and setting in our seat, I noted that we would depart about ten minutes late. Unfortunately, my estimate was actually underestimated with the pilot’s announcement the unexpected need to change all four tires, thereby causing a forty-five minute to hour delay. No problem. We’ll arrive around 12:30 instead of 11:30 a.m. Amazingly, the pilot’s estimate was spot-on!

Tired from the early morning rise, I was able to get a moment of sleep during the flight but was abruptly awoken by the pilot’s next announcement that fog settled over San Diego creating a six hundred foot ceiling and an instrument approach was necessary but we had to circle the airport for about forty-five minutes. After our endless circles, the pilot then announced that San Diego may not be possible and we may have to find an alternative airport if we’re not cleared. Nervousness about missing packet pick-up quickly filled my mind and we started to make some contingency plans. Luckily, the plane ducked into an opening and we landed, however it was 1:30 p.m., thereby leaving me very hungry and unlikely we would have lunch.

In order to travel to other cities and participate in marathons, often we travel by public transportation via bus or rail. Unfortunately, I decided to ‘play it by ear’ upon our arrival based upon the assumption that San Diego was progressive with transit service and due to the close proximity of the convention center to the airport and our hotel. With a twenty minute delay to find the bus stop, we were finally on our way to our hotel and packet pick-up.

Dropping-off our luggage at the Horton Grand Hotel in the Gas Lamp District, we were quite pleased with the historic hotel, it’s location and, of course, the reasonable rate. Soon the wife and I were walking about ten to twelve blocks to the convention center to pick-up my bib and purchase Gu.




Having run a variety marathons, I appreciate the expo for decent prices on Gu and some apparel but loath the crowds and panicky disposition of most runners. The words ‘excuse me’ are rarely used as some our purely focused on obtaining free samples which seemed to be far and few in between this year due to the depression. I understand in years past the race drew 26,000 plus runners, however this year there were only 16,000 or so. My expectation for the Expo was that of size of Chicago’s Marathon, however it seemed much smaller in terms of booths and size which created crowded aisles with excited runners.



Somewhere along the way I lost the wife but called her on the cell to learn that she was purchasing a poster with artist personally signing to me because she felt that I would do “great things at this race” and “feel you will have great success like never before due to your training and cross-training”. Her confidence in me established great expectations. She believed in me. Maybe, I should believe in myself and try for something great?

Tired and not having had anything to eat since the day before, I begged that we leave for a late lunch. Walking back towards the hotel, we happened upon a bar that served pasta where I had a plate of penne with chicken. Finishing around 3:30 or 3:45, we went back to the hotel , I for a nap and the wife to blog about our experience.


Foreshadow?

With dinner reservations at 7 p.m., I had another plate of spaghetti but also an appetizer of Mozzarella, tomatoes and olive oil – a break from my traditional pre-long run meal. After a few quick purchases at the pharmacy, I was finally in bed by around 10 p.m. and fell asleep around 11 p.m. The following video begins at the race and describes my experience of hope.

A Year Older, Not Necessarily Wiser I Am

After my sixteen, committee member meeting (those who showed of twenty-two), the sixty-seven year-old now turned sixty-eight year old runner, who kicked my ass on a trail last year, inquired if I was planning to run the 10k this week-end. Initially, I declined because I needed to recover from this week-end's marathon. However, I took the bait.

We spoke about this last week-end's marathon and his upcoming senior, "National Invitational Only Race". Yep, my adrenalin was getting the best of me despite my sore quads, two blisters and what-ever the heck is going on with my left foot..."Yea, I'm ready!" Truly, he's a great guy whom I deeply respect as a runner and for his community involvement and worldly knowledge but he was tempting me with his language, "Running!"

"Yea, let's race!" I thought. Sometimes, there's no control over the mind and the body -- much like me and pizza.

With my obvious limp and weak legs, the wife and he recommended else-wise. Despite this mere temporary, physical condition mind you, since last year, I'm also a year older and wiser as well! Did I write, wiser? Hmmm... the jury is out on this one, indeed.

WAY Too Fast... IS AN understatement.

I just arrived home and I refuse to let my vacation stop until tomorrow morning when work begins. Luckily, there is only 16 hours of work until the week-end begins and I can relax, again.

So, I was curious as to what "WAY Too Fast" meant. I started in corral 2 and was "FEELING IT!" While running I thought, "This is it! I will BQ! I've never felt this great! I'm keeping-up with everyone and it seems fine. What? Is my Garmin broken? Is the Garmin timing me in kilometers?... 5:12? It must be kilometers." Well, maybe not.

When passing the 3:30 pace group, I over-heard, "What pace are we running at? Is this right?"

Soon, I was well-ahead of them. I thought the Garmin to have corrected itself as I saw a 7:14 pace at one time.

When I had to stop at the port-0-potties at the "Mile 6" sign, as I recall, the Garmin was at either 42 or 44. Today, I downloaded the Garmin recordings which shocked the crap out of me (as well as race day at mile 6).

Back to the vacation...will download video/pics/description and thoughts tomorrow. The video was of hope and a plan, then disappointment. Great concert footage as well. Don't forget the wife's site, SheRidesaBike for other observations, as well.

Enjoying the Course from the Sideline

"Wow, that was tough!"

When even a respectable finish for myself was out of reach, along the course at mile 25 I heard, "Anyone want a beer?"

The running purist in me said, "Hell no." Yet, recalling a response to a post where a woman asked,"Why run a race if it is not for a PR?" and I replied, "... simply, to enjoy the run and course..." I then shouted, "Yea, a beer can't do any harm now!" So, I hobbled to the curb to the make-shift bar and drank a beer along with the spectators as other runners look on in disbelief. I had to salvage some sort of enjoyment out of this run after gimping along for the last six miles.

More to come tomorrow along with video and pics as for I'm on vacation now and the race behind me.

In short, there is always another race. P.S. I got photo with Ryan Hall!

Way too happy in this photo!