Well, I've derailed from my music theme twice now (Ebert, Legs) although half of my deviations at least contained a gratuitous mention to stay close to topic. But since yesterday's post was about running, or at least the after-effects of running, I thought today's events warranted an extension on that topic.
There are some sick people in this world. The trouble is, sometimes we can't spot them until it's too late. It's tough in a situation like the Boston Marathon bombings, when we don't know where to direct our ire. Was this terrorism? Clearly. Was it foreign or domestic? Time will tell. I cast the odds at 50 / 50. I hope I'm just overly cynical.
It looks like it was a coordinated attack, that more than one person conspired to pull this off. Multiple bombs being planted and detonated in a heavily guarded public area...is anyplace safe? Probably not, at least when it comes to the execution of an event. There has to be video footage of the culprit(s) out there somewhere, though, so they can't get away with it.
But then again, the asshole in Colorado had his entire apartment wired to blow. Materials are readily available to make crude bombs. Was this some gun-rights nut trying to prove a point, that gun laws won't keep people safe? If so, then this deft political motherf&^%er also proved that crazy is as crazy does, and you can't legislate sanity.
I'm pissed, regardless of who was behind this. People gathered to cheer on friends and family as they competed in a very difficult event, celebrating personal achievement, endurance, and comradery. An exercise in good spirit on so many levels, marred by a demented act of terror.
You know, there have been times in my training where I thought about throwing the towel in, not running this half-marathon on May 4. I'm not really obligated. But now, I am resolved to run this race.
Showing posts with label Running. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Running. Show all posts
Monday, April 15, 2013
Sunday, April 14, 2013
A-Z Challenge: Legs
Okay, time is short so I'll just get to the point.
My freaking legs hurt. Feet too. Not agonizing pain, but that dull ache that sets into 41-year-old joints after running 9 miles on them.
First, some background: there is a half-marathon coming up in May. I've participated in this race twice before. I've declared I will never run a half-marathon again twice before, too. Turns out I'm not real good at keeping personal promises.
The run itself was great. The weather was ideal; my knees were stiff for the first couple minutes but they loosened up. My wife ran with me and she had a great run, too. She went a little faster than she normally runs, and I went a little slower than I normally run, and we both ran a lot closer to each other than we normally run. It was fun.
I feel okay right now. I'm sitting down. After the run I showered then lit some charcoal and cooked up some porterhouse steaks. We had split half of a cow with my aunt and uncle; these steaks were fresh, grass-fed, all-natural, hormone- and antibiotic-free beef...for only $2.99 / lb. I'm still lingering in food heaven, sipping on some wine and digesting.
But my future awaits. This bliss soon will end. For in my future: Stairs.
Stairs are my ultra arch-enemy at the moment. They are evil. Going up is decidedly worse than going down, but I cut them no slack in either direction. They are hurtful, mean objects. Soon it will be bedtime, and that means the stairs and I will have an unpleasant confrontation.
Legs. Ouch. And since this is a series focused on music, I feel obliged to point out that ZZ top wrote a song about legs. It's a great song, but it approaches the subject from a much different perspective than I have presented today.
My freaking legs hurt. Feet too. Not agonizing pain, but that dull ache that sets into 41-year-old joints after running 9 miles on them.
First, some background: there is a half-marathon coming up in May. I've participated in this race twice before. I've declared I will never run a half-marathon again twice before, too. Turns out I'm not real good at keeping personal promises.
The run itself was great. The weather was ideal; my knees were stiff for the first couple minutes but they loosened up. My wife ran with me and she had a great run, too. She went a little faster than she normally runs, and I went a little slower than I normally run, and we both ran a lot closer to each other than we normally run. It was fun.
I feel okay right now. I'm sitting down. After the run I showered then lit some charcoal and cooked up some porterhouse steaks. We had split half of a cow with my aunt and uncle; these steaks were fresh, grass-fed, all-natural, hormone- and antibiotic-free beef...for only $2.99 / lb. I'm still lingering in food heaven, sipping on some wine and digesting.
But my future awaits. This bliss soon will end. For in my future: Stairs.
Stairs are my ultra arch-enemy at the moment. They are evil. Going up is decidedly worse than going down, but I cut them no slack in either direction. They are hurtful, mean objects. Soon it will be bedtime, and that means the stairs and I will have an unpleasant confrontation.
Legs. Ouch. And since this is a series focused on music, I feel obliged to point out that ZZ top wrote a song about legs. It's a great song, but it approaches the subject from a much different perspective than I have presented today.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Getting the Run-Around
I wasn't planning on posting again this week, but this is just too good...
Last night I was sitting on the couch watching a DVR recording of America's Funniest Home Videos with my five-year-old son. Or rather, I was watching AFV while my son bounced around the couch like a jumping bean. A very loud jumping bean.
"Wow, you're wound up," I said, checking the clock. It was around 8pm, edging on bedtime. "Why don't you run three laps around the couch and burn some of that energy off?"
He thought that was a great idea, so he took off. I counted each time he passed between me and the TV screen. "One...two...three..."
Oh, he didn't stop there. He wasn't done by a long shot. "Four...five...six..." He asked if this would make him better at basketball. I assured him it would.
"Seven...eight...nine...ten..." I won't go through every number, because trust me, it's boring as hell. I will give you some general recaps, however, so you can get the sense of how this little exercise progressed:
Laps 45-55: He added the dining room and kitchen. I still only counted a lap when he passed between me and the TV screen, though. After ten extended laps he went back to circling the couch.
Lap 70- He asked if his basketball game would be over. I said it would be pretty close.
Lap 75- He told me he would go to 101.
Lap 101- Still going strong. He asked me if running would help build up his Magneto powers. I said I didn't know, but encouraged him to try it out and see.
Lap 125- I was cracking up, and reminded him that I only asked him to run three laps. He asked me not to laugh. Then he clarified that I could laugh at the TV, just not at him.
Lap 150- AFV was over, and I noted that surely his basketball game would be over too. He did not object to being called Shirley. Must work on this.
Lap 212- He started walking.
Lap 251- It was 9:01 pm and my wife came in to admonish me for not sending him up to bed already. I made him stop and sent him up to bed, but I'm pretty sure he was dead-set on clearing 300 if we would have let him.
Last night I was sitting on the couch watching a DVR recording of America's Funniest Home Videos with my five-year-old son. Or rather, I was watching AFV while my son bounced around the couch like a jumping bean. A very loud jumping bean.
"Wow, you're wound up," I said, checking the clock. It was around 8pm, edging on bedtime. "Why don't you run three laps around the couch and burn some of that energy off?"
He thought that was a great idea, so he took off. I counted each time he passed between me and the TV screen. "One...two...three..."
Oh, he didn't stop there. He wasn't done by a long shot. "Four...five...six..." He asked if this would make him better at basketball. I assured him it would.
"Seven...eight...nine...ten..." I won't go through every number, because trust me, it's boring as hell. I will give you some general recaps, however, so you can get the sense of how this little exercise progressed:
Laps 45-55: He added the dining room and kitchen. I still only counted a lap when he passed between me and the TV screen, though. After ten extended laps he went back to circling the couch.
Lap 70- He asked if his basketball game would be over. I said it would be pretty close.
Lap 75- He told me he would go to 101.
Lap 101- Still going strong. He asked me if running would help build up his Magneto powers. I said I didn't know, but encouraged him to try it out and see.
Lap 125- I was cracking up, and reminded him that I only asked him to run three laps. He asked me not to laugh. Then he clarified that I could laugh at the TV, just not at him.
Lap 150- AFV was over, and I noted that surely his basketball game would be over too. He did not object to being called Shirley. Must work on this.
Lap 212- He started walking.
Lap 251- It was 9:01 pm and my wife came in to admonish me for not sending him up to bed already. I made him stop and sent him up to bed, but I'm pretty sure he was dead-set on clearing 300 if we would have let him.
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Race Day Review
We went to bed early last night, but we both had trouble falling asleep. When 6am rolled around, neither of us felt refreshed. But that's nothing coffee and adrenaline can't cure...
Over 7,000 people turned out to run and walk. I don't know the breakdown, but there was a 5k run / walk (that's 3.1 miles), and the rest did the half-marathon (and that's 13.1 miles). I think this qualifies as a "crowd."
Here's a view of the starting line before the race.
The signs on the right side were for the runners to line up based on their pace.
The 1:30 indicates people who expect to finish in 1 hr 30 minutes.
Elite is for steroid abusers, and for people who were bitten by radioactive spiders, or hit by gamma ray bursts, or come from Krypton.
Notice that this picture was taken from aways back...
At 1 minute to race time, this crowd tightened into solid mass. We were in the latter half of a crowd of 7,000, a dense throng crammed into a lane and a half of roadway. They gave the command to start and we stood still for over between five and ten minutes while those in front of us started going- one by one, it seemed. Eventually the crowd did move forward in an asynchronous waddle that was reminiscent of a March of the Penguins, just without the antarctic winds. Our weather was perfect. Thank God.
I crossed the start line, and I heard horns start playing the theme from Rocky. Literally. It was the first song on my playlist. The second group of horns stared to play when I pressed start on my GPS to track time and speed. I was pumped.
About a mile in we passed an on-ramp for I-670. "We should take the highway, it would be so much faster," I suggested to my fellow runners, but no one deviated from the course. I did get a chuckle out of a couple people nearby and we chatted for the next mile. It turns out running can be a semi-social event. A turn came up.
"Stay to the inside, the outside curve is longer, and there's not need to make this any farther than it need to be," I cautioned. They ran along the far side of the curve anyway. I followed like a retarded sheep.
Around 3 miles in, my wife and I were still running together. "Happy anniversary," I said. She smiled and returned the sentiment. Only 10 miles to go.
After the race my wife said that someone who overheard this exchange asked her it it was really our anniversary. She assured them it was.
"Ask him to take you o=t to dinner next year," was the advice they gave. Ha! This whole damn thing was her idea to begin with. She brought it up, I found a training schedule online and thought we could do it.
At about 4 miles in, I started to pull ahead of her. Or she purposefully fell back because she was embarrassed by by air guitar skills (which are, in fact, awesome). I told you I was pumped.
Miles 5-10 were fueled by a kick-ass iPod playlist. It's easier to run when you have good music. It's also motivating to be in a crowd of people, with spectators on the side of many of the streets, cheering on friends and family. All I had to do was pretend my name was Kate, Erin, or Mom and it was like they were cheering for me, too.
The final three miles were tough, but not as bad as I thought they would be. The worst part was the block and a half of cobblestone / brick road we ran over in German Village. This was about 11 miles in, and my feet were already hurting pretty bad.
The blisters on my toes were second generation - regenerated old blisters that had nearly healed before this run. As I hit the cobblestone, my feet cheered me on, encouraging me to quickly pass this nuisance.
"FU," my right foot said each time it hit the hard, uneven ground.
"FU2," my left said, a prefect echo of the right foot's sentiment.
I got past thirteen miles. Almost there. Up a hill, and then the final half-mile was down hill, and then (finally!) around a corner to the finish line. You bet you ass I took the inside track on this corner. As I did, I pulled my digital camera from my pouch. This is what I captured:
I was kicking it with all my energy. My average pace in the run was a 10 minute mile. For the first part of that video I was close to a 7.5 minute mile. I don't know what I was clocking as I crossed the finish line, but it was absolutely all I could muster. The camera recorded my voice, but it didn't pick up that much of the ambient noise. It was loud. People cheering, noisemakers, Andrea Campbern, a local news anchor, was to the left of the finish line cheering us on through the PA...
I think I finished in about 2 hrs 10 minutes. That's what my GPS said. The clocks at the finish line were based on the first people who started. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Here's a pre-race photo. The post-race photo is me and my wife, and she has not granted authorization to make that photo public:
So what happened after the race? We had a busy damn day, that's what. My son had a soccer game. They won, 6-0. He scored two goals, and he saved all three shots the quarter he was goalie. Then i went to the store, then out to dinner with my in-laws.
May 2nd, 2009 is prom night here in Columbus. It took three restaurants to find a good eatery with less than an hour wait! But now we're home, and holy mother of God do my knees and toes hurt...
Over 7,000 people turned out to run and walk. I don't know the breakdown, but there was a 5k run / walk (that's 3.1 miles), and the rest did the half-marathon (and that's 13.1 miles). I think this qualifies as a "crowd."
Here's a view of the starting line before the race.The signs on the right side were for the runners to line up based on their pace.
The 1:30 indicates people who expect to finish in 1 hr 30 minutes.
Elite is for steroid abusers, and for people who were bitten by radioactive spiders, or hit by gamma ray bursts, or come from Krypton.
Notice that this picture was taken from aways back...
At 1 minute to race time, this crowd tightened into solid mass. We were in the latter half of a crowd of 7,000, a dense throng crammed into a lane and a half of roadway. They gave the command to start and we stood still for over between five and ten minutes while those in front of us started going- one by one, it seemed. Eventually the crowd did move forward in an asynchronous waddle that was reminiscent of a March of the Penguins, just without the antarctic winds. Our weather was perfect. Thank God.
I crossed the start line, and I heard horns start playing the theme from Rocky. Literally. It was the first song on my playlist. The second group of horns stared to play when I pressed start on my GPS to track time and speed. I was pumped.
About a mile in we passed an on-ramp for I-670. "We should take the highway, it would be so much faster," I suggested to my fellow runners, but no one deviated from the course. I did get a chuckle out of a couple people nearby and we chatted for the next mile. It turns out running can be a semi-social event. A turn came up.
"Stay to the inside, the outside curve is longer, and there's not need to make this any farther than it need to be," I cautioned. They ran along the far side of the curve anyway. I followed like a retarded sheep.
Around 3 miles in, my wife and I were still running together. "Happy anniversary," I said. She smiled and returned the sentiment. Only 10 miles to go.
After the race my wife said that someone who overheard this exchange asked her it it was really our anniversary. She assured them it was.
"Ask him to take you o=t to dinner next year," was the advice they gave. Ha! This whole damn thing was her idea to begin with. She brought it up, I found a training schedule online and thought we could do it.
At about 4 miles in, I started to pull ahead of her. Or she purposefully fell back because she was embarrassed by by air guitar skills (which are, in fact, awesome). I told you I was pumped.
Miles 5-10 were fueled by a kick-ass iPod playlist. It's easier to run when you have good music. It's also motivating to be in a crowd of people, with spectators on the side of many of the streets, cheering on friends and family. All I had to do was pretend my name was Kate, Erin, or Mom and it was like they were cheering for me, too.
The final three miles were tough, but not as bad as I thought they would be. The worst part was the block and a half of cobblestone / brick road we ran over in German Village. This was about 11 miles in, and my feet were already hurting pretty bad.
The blisters on my toes were second generation - regenerated old blisters that had nearly healed before this run. As I hit the cobblestone, my feet cheered me on, encouraging me to quickly pass this nuisance.
"FU," my right foot said each time it hit the hard, uneven ground.
"FU2," my left said, a prefect echo of the right foot's sentiment.
I got past thirteen miles. Almost there. Up a hill, and then the final half-mile was down hill, and then (finally!) around a corner to the finish line. You bet you ass I took the inside track on this corner. As I did, I pulled my digital camera from my pouch. This is what I captured:
I was kicking it with all my energy. My average pace in the run was a 10 minute mile. For the first part of that video I was close to a 7.5 minute mile. I don't know what I was clocking as I crossed the finish line, but it was absolutely all I could muster. The camera recorded my voice, but it didn't pick up that much of the ambient noise. It was loud. People cheering, noisemakers, Andrea Campbern, a local news anchor, was to the left of the finish line cheering us on through the PA...
I think I finished in about 2 hrs 10 minutes. That's what my GPS said. The clocks at the finish line were based on the first people who started. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Here's a pre-race photo. The post-race photo is me and my wife, and she has not granted authorization to make that photo public:
So what happened after the race? We had a busy damn day, that's what. My son had a soccer game. They won, 6-0. He scored two goals, and he saved all three shots the quarter he was goalie. Then i went to the store, then out to dinner with my in-laws.
May 2nd, 2009 is prom night here in Columbus. It took three restaurants to find a good eatery with less than an hour wait! But now we're home, and holy mother of God do my knees and toes hurt...
Race Day
It's 6am. I am up and dressed, sipping coffee and eating a bagel. Well, I was doing that. Right now I'm typing.
My wife and I are celebrating our 10 year anniversary by running a half marathon. That's 13.1 miles. The race starts in 1 hr 43 minutes. It's 45 degrees out, should get into the 50's. Clear with a chance of scattered showers. Little to no wind.
Should be a good race.
My goal is to finish, time is absolutely not of the essence!
I'll be back tonight for a post-race report.
My wife and I are celebrating our 10 year anniversary by running a half marathon. That's 13.1 miles. The race starts in 1 hr 43 minutes. It's 45 degrees out, should get into the 50's. Clear with a chance of scattered showers. Little to no wind.
Should be a good race.
My goal is to finish, time is absolutely not of the essence!
I'll be back tonight for a post-race report.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Still on the Run
In case you were wondering - and you all spend vast chunks of every day wondering about me, I'm sure - I am back on schedule for my half-marathon training.
Last Saturday, after I froze my ass off coaching my son's soccer game, my wife and I went for a long run. According to her, we talked about scaling it down, maybe just doing 8. My recollection was that we would go 10.
So we bundled up and got to running. Of course, by the time we started it was warmer out so I got really hot right away and had to peel away the layers. Still, I was not coughing and my legs felt pretty good. I think I got way high off of endorphins, because about 4 miles into it I thought about extending it to 12 miles. That's really what the training schedule said we should be doing, and I missed the long run the week before. Plus, we were going halfway and turning around, so that put the target at 6 miles, not really 12. Very achievable.
I was way ahead of my wife due to the fact that I am 6'1" and she is 5'2" (despite her steadfast claims she is really 5'3"...but than again, she always lies about her age, so can we really trust her on her height?). I looked down at my Garmin GPS watch.
"Kirk to Enterprise. Give me a bearing, Sulu," I commanded.
Just kidding. I'm not that big of a geek. Well, maybe I am, but still I didn't actually say that. I just saw that I hit 5 miles, so it was time to turn around and go back, so I kept going for another half mile before I turned around.
I was at about 5.75 miles when I met up with my wife. She knew I went past the 5 mile mark and she was P-I-S-S-S-S-E-D. But really, she only went a quarter-mile past, and that's not too far. She failed to appreciate this logic.
I was doing great until about 8 miles in, and after that the final 3 were the epitome of pain. I kept looking at my Garmin GPS watch.
"Scotty, beam me the f&^% out of here!"
Again, I just thought that up now and didn't really say it while I was running, but if I would have said it, I would have meant every word. Especially f&^%.
Once we got home, I fixed dinner. After we ate, our neighbor's kids came over for a sleepover (our neighbors were going to their friends 40th b-day party, and now they owe us a night of babysitting. Yay!). By the time we got the kids to bed, it was time to hide Easter baskets. All said and done, after we ran 11 miles we didn't get to sit down until about 1am, at which point we bypassed sitting and just collapsed into bed.
But wait, there's more!
The kids woke up at 6:45am Sunday morning and tried their damnedest to make as much noise as possible while they searched for their Easter baskets. They are really good at making noise. They should go pro. I realized that I wouldn't fall back asleep and crawled out of bed around 7:45am, downed some ibuprofen, and started an all day cooking marathon, the highlight of which was grilled pizzas - but that's another story...
Last Saturday, after I froze my ass off coaching my son's soccer game, my wife and I went for a long run. According to her, we talked about scaling it down, maybe just doing 8. My recollection was that we would go 10.
So we bundled up and got to running. Of course, by the time we started it was warmer out so I got really hot right away and had to peel away the layers. Still, I was not coughing and my legs felt pretty good. I think I got way high off of endorphins, because about 4 miles into it I thought about extending it to 12 miles. That's really what the training schedule said we should be doing, and I missed the long run the week before. Plus, we were going halfway and turning around, so that put the target at 6 miles, not really 12. Very achievable.
I was way ahead of my wife due to the fact that I am 6'1" and she is 5'2" (despite her steadfast claims she is really 5'3"...but than again, she always lies about her age, so can we really trust her on her height?). I looked down at my Garmin GPS watch.
"Kirk to Enterprise. Give me a bearing, Sulu," I commanded.
Just kidding. I'm not that big of a geek. Well, maybe I am, but still I didn't actually say that. I just saw that I hit 5 miles, so it was time to turn around and go back, so I kept going for another half mile before I turned around.
I was at about 5.75 miles when I met up with my wife. She knew I went past the 5 mile mark and she was P-I-S-S-S-S-E-D. But really, she only went a quarter-mile past, and that's not too far. She failed to appreciate this logic.
I was doing great until about 8 miles in, and after that the final 3 were the epitome of pain. I kept looking at my Garmin GPS watch.
"Scotty, beam me the f&^% out of here!"
Again, I just thought that up now and didn't really say it while I was running, but if I would have said it, I would have meant every word. Especially f&^%.
Once we got home, I fixed dinner. After we ate, our neighbor's kids came over for a sleepover (our neighbors were going to their friends 40th b-day party, and now they owe us a night of babysitting. Yay!). By the time we got the kids to bed, it was time to hide Easter baskets. All said and done, after we ran 11 miles we didn't get to sit down until about 1am, at which point we bypassed sitting and just collapsed into bed.
But wait, there's more!
The kids woke up at 6:45am Sunday morning and tried their damnedest to make as much noise as possible while they searched for their Easter baskets. They are really good at making noise. They should go pro. I realized that I wouldn't fall back asleep and crawled out of bed around 7:45am, downed some ibuprofen, and started an all day cooking marathon, the highlight of which was grilled pizzas - but that's another story...
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Dude, are you ever gonna post again?
Q: Dude, are you ever gonna post again?
A: Back off. I read the freaking title. Yes.
Q: When?
A: By the time you read this, I will have already posted.
Q: That's deep.
A: That wasn't a question. But yes, you're right. That was very deep. I suppose I inherited some time travel powers from my son.
Q: How can you inherit something from your children?
A: With time travel, anything is possible.
Q: How was your run this weekend?
A: Funny you should ask. The kids got me sick, and I wussed out.
Q: Really?
A: Really. I didn't totally wuss out for no reason. I mean, I Googled it first. And Google's response to "running when you are sick" was that if it is above the neck, go for it, below the neck don't push it. I have a head cold that worked its way into my chest, so I decided running 11 miles was not in my best interest. My wife did complete her run though. She kicks ass.
Q: What about the rest of the week's running schedule?
A: I'm in Chicago on business, and I may wake up and hit the treadmill at the hotel in the morning. That seems like a great idea right now, but at 6am I shall reserve the right to hold a contrary opinion on the matter...
Q: So I guess that's all for now?
A: True dat yo.
A: Back off. I read the freaking title. Yes.
Q: When?
A: By the time you read this, I will have already posted.
Q: That's deep.
A: That wasn't a question. But yes, you're right. That was very deep. I suppose I inherited some time travel powers from my son.
Q: How can you inherit something from your children?
A: With time travel, anything is possible.
Q: How was your run this weekend?
A: Funny you should ask. The kids got me sick, and I wussed out.
Q: Really?
A: Really. I didn't totally wuss out for no reason. I mean, I Googled it first. And Google's response to "running when you are sick" was that if it is above the neck, go for it, below the neck don't push it. I have a head cold that worked its way into my chest, so I decided running 11 miles was not in my best interest. My wife did complete her run though. She kicks ass.
Q: What about the rest of the week's running schedule?
A: I'm in Chicago on business, and I may wake up and hit the treadmill at the hotel in the morning. That seems like a great idea right now, but at 6am I shall reserve the right to hold a contrary opinion on the matter...
Q: So I guess that's all for now?
A: True dat yo.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Ten Miles. In the cold rain. We are dedicated.
We dropped the kids off at our next door neighbor's house, and drove a few miles to the trail head. As we left, it started to rain, a nice forty degree drizzle.
By the time we left the neighborhood, it was coming down steady. The car shifted a little bit on the road.
"Is that the wind pushing the car?" My wife asked.
"No, I'm just not steering good," I lied. I was trying to get mentally prepared, and she was trying to get me to agree to call off our ten mile run.
The rain came down harder, as if trying to prove a point. She looked at me, concern evident in her eyes.
"It just sounds like that because we're driving fast," I lied. My mental preparedness was getting stronger.
We parked at the trail head. It's about 13 miles in total, along the Olentangy River. All we had to do was run 5 miles (then turn around and come back).
The rain slowed to a drizzle right before we started, which is good because otherwise we would have driven to Starbucks and sipped coffee while our kids were next door with their friends. But alas, we were determined to do it, and do it we did.
It was hell.
I was surprised at how many other insane people were out running, too. There must be something in the water around here.
So now I'm sitting here, writing an abnormally long and detailed blog post, simply because I am afraid to stand up, let alone walk any distance. It's not that I want to be here, but I am more or less trapped. The last time I straightened my left leg my knee crackled and popped in what I am certain was Morse Code for "do that again and I will kill you. And your toes will help me do it."
By the time we left the neighborhood, it was coming down steady. The car shifted a little bit on the road.
"Is that the wind pushing the car?" My wife asked.
"No, I'm just not steering good," I lied. I was trying to get mentally prepared, and she was trying to get me to agree to call off our ten mile run.
The rain came down harder, as if trying to prove a point. She looked at me, concern evident in her eyes.
"It just sounds like that because we're driving fast," I lied. My mental preparedness was getting stronger.
We parked at the trail head. It's about 13 miles in total, along the Olentangy River. All we had to do was run 5 miles (then turn around and come back).
The rain slowed to a drizzle right before we started, which is good because otherwise we would have driven to Starbucks and sipped coffee while our kids were next door with their friends. But alas, we were determined to do it, and do it we did.
It was hell.
I was surprised at how many other insane people were out running, too. There must be something in the water around here.
So now I'm sitting here, writing an abnormally long and detailed blog post, simply because I am afraid to stand up, let alone walk any distance. It's not that I want to be here, but I am more or less trapped. The last time I straightened my left leg my knee crackled and popped in what I am certain was Morse Code for "do that again and I will kill you. And your toes will help me do it."
Monday, March 23, 2009
Nucking Futs
I did it.
It wasn't terrible during the run. It was sunny and warm enough to run in shorts and a t-shirt. Around mile 6 I started wondering where those endorphins are that I always heard about, and the "runner's high."
It turns out that the endorphins really kick in after you stop. I felt fine yesterday afternoon. But endorphins don't last that long. I was hoping they would go for at least a week, until I do my 10 mile run, instead they made it until 10pm and then bailed on me.
This morning I am dealing with the challenge of walking. My toes and my knees are very, very mad at me.
#
It wasn't terrible during the run. It was sunny and warm enough to run in shorts and a t-shirt. Around mile 6 I started wondering where those endorphins are that I always heard about, and the "runner's high."
It turns out that the endorphins really kick in after you stop. I felt fine yesterday afternoon. But endorphins don't last that long. I was hoping they would go for at least a week, until I do my 10 mile run, instead they made it until 10pm and then bailed on me.
This morning I am dealing with the challenge of walking. My toes and my knees are very, very mad at me.
#
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Are you freaking insane????
Not you, dear reader. That's actually a rhetorical questions directed at myself. Although if you are insane, I applaud myself for pointing it out to you.
The answer, for me at least, seems to be an unfortunate yes. You see, my wife and I signed up to run a half marathon in May. On May 2, to be exact. Which happens to be our 10 year anniversary.
Tin is supposed to be the gift for a 10 year anniversary. That seems inherently lame (although it is recyclable, so maybe we'll get back to it in a few years). We decided to ditch it, opting instead for pain and sweat.
What does this have to do with today?
Everything.
Today I have to run 8 miles for training.
I don't mind running, the weather is nice today, I have a new battery in my iPod so it should go silent after mile 4. But holy crap, 8 miles is a long way to run, and I am not mentally prepared for it. I've never run that far before, not even when being chased. I have to psyche myself up for it. Make it right. Make it real. Here goes...
8 Mile was a movie starring Eminem. And M&M's are candy. And candy is a treat, like cake. So running 8 miles is a piece of cake.
OK, good. I have no clue what I'll do next week, when I have to run 10 miles, but I think I'm covered for today.
The answer, for me at least, seems to be an unfortunate yes. You see, my wife and I signed up to run a half marathon in May. On May 2, to be exact. Which happens to be our 10 year anniversary.
Tin is supposed to be the gift for a 10 year anniversary. That seems inherently lame (although it is recyclable, so maybe we'll get back to it in a few years). We decided to ditch it, opting instead for pain and sweat.
What does this have to do with today?
Everything.
Today I have to run 8 miles for training.
I don't mind running, the weather is nice today, I have a new battery in my iPod so it should go silent after mile 4. But holy crap, 8 miles is a long way to run, and I am not mentally prepared for it. I've never run that far before, not even when being chased. I have to psyche myself up for it. Make it right. Make it real. Here goes...
8 Mile was a movie starring Eminem. And M&M's are candy. And candy is a treat, like cake. So running 8 miles is a piece of cake.
OK, good. I have no clue what I'll do next week, when I have to run 10 miles, but I think I'm covered for today.
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