Flashback Friday

It was October 7, 2007, I was at mile 4 of the Twin Cities Marathon, and I was already in trouble.   What was supposed to be a marathon in chilly Minnesota fall weather was quickly turning into a slog through a sultry indian summer day.  The temperature climbed into the 80's as I ditched my soaked shirt on the side of the road.  I grabbed two cups at every water station and still couldn't sate my thirst.  In the late stages of the race, paramedics tended to passed out runners on the sides of the roads.  It was chaos.

I hadn't trained properly, either.  Used to running the Philadelphia Marathon the week before Thanksgiving, I was now running a race at the beginning of October.  I should have done much of my training over the summer, but I failed to do much of anything while on a cross country roadtrip from June to August.

My legs felt useless, my thirst was overpowering, and I had to stop to walk far more than I wanted to.  It was painful and demoralizing, and I couldn't help thinking it had been a waste to come out to Minnesota for such a dismal performance.

You know the reaction kids have when they open a present on Christmas morning and it's exactly what they've asked for?  Though I may not have looked it, that's the excitement I felt when I saw my sister Kirsten at the 23 mile mark.  She jumped in and started running with me, and I felt compelled to give her a running commentary of the status of my legs.  "OH GOD it feels like my quads are going to rip through the skin!" I was in bad shape.  But my sister offered encouragement, and waited with me while I stretched, and continued to run with me.

When we crested the hill on Summit Avenue, the Cathedral of St. Paul and State Capitol Building came into view.  Next to the finish line, flapping in all its old glory, was the largest American flag I have ever seen.  Kirsten and I ran side by side as the crowds thickened on either side of the course, their cheers thunderous, and I can say without a doubt that this is one of my favorite memories of my life.

With my sister Kirsten after the 2007 Twin Cities Marathon

On carbo loading

This is just my first helping

I remember hitting the wall quite clearly in my first marathon.  It was somewhere on the Kelly Drive in Philadelphia around mile 17, and my legs suddenly seized up, like some tiny demon was yanking at my muscles from the inside.  I spent the rest of the race taking walk breaks and finished in 4:29:47.

I didn't really know what I was doing then, but through trial and error and a little research, I have a routine that keeps me from hitting the wall anymore.  Quite simply:

I carbo load like a mother*#$!@.

This is, obviously, not a new concept to most marathoners.  But I don't just start the night before with the traditional pasta dinner that most big races offer to runners.  No, I start three nights out.

For a Saturday marathon, I'll start on Wednesday night with a heaping plate of pasta.  I'll have the same heaping plate on Thursday night, and on Friday I'll lower the intake to a more normal portion and make sure I finish by 6pm.  By Saturday morning I'm fully digested, and my veins are absolutely pulsing with carbs.  Together with the gels I take before and during the race, my legs manage to not seize up in the final miles.

Last night was the start of carbo loading, which meant all the spaghetti my gut could handle.

Meeting of the Uncles

My first full day in Minnesota, in bullet form:

• Went for a slow thirty minute run around my sister's neighborhood.  The muscles are stretched and loose, my energy is up, and I'm ready to give it hell this Saturday.
• Went to the Minnesota Children's Museum with Kirsten and Oliver.  One of the best museums I've ever been to.  Makes me nostalgic for my time at Philadelphia's Franklin Institute when I was a kid.
• Reading to Oliver.  He walks up to me and hands me a book and wants me to read it to him.  He's not even two yet and already obsessed with books.
• Meeting of the Uncles went well.  Oliver's other uncle Andy came over and we chased Oliver around, had a spaghetti dinner so I could start carbo loading, and traded stories full of uncle-style shenanigans.

Uncle Scott, Oliver, Uncle Andy

Minnesota

I arrived safely here in Minnesota, and look what I found in my sister's basement!

Sadly, it's barely two square feet, and Kirsten and her husband Chris are going to remove it anyway once they renovate the basement.

Movie Monday XIX

Ben Davis and crew are taking the show on the road this summer for the First Official Unofficial Do Life 5k Tour.  They're hitting 31 cities in 40 days and stopping somewhere in the middle to do an Ironman, all in the name of promoting the idea of doing life.  I'll be stopping by to see them in Philly a week from today.  Here's the promo video they made:

Wissahickon

I have less than a week to go before the marathon, and we all know what that means: taper.  This means I'm easing back on the mileage in order to give my body a chance to rest and recover from the stress I've put on it in the last few months.  This means, in turn, that I can finally do normal things on a Sunday again instead of running 20 miles by myself.  Normal things like going to Wissahickon Creek over in PA with Stevie, a friend from the theater.

We spent the first hour there scaring ourselves by climbing the rocks.  Now I get to scare my grandmother with this picture:

Can this count as crosstraining?

When we tired of the rocks, we decided to give cliffjumping a go.  Now, I've been cliffjumping before.  I've scaled trees and climbing walls.  I've ridden insane rollercoasters and jumped out of planes.  But I still found myself standing at the edge of the 20 foot drop genuinely scared to make the jump.

Me: Are you going to jump?
Stevie: Absolutely!  I'm not letting you show me up!

I can honestly say that I love cliffjumping.  It's not standing at the edge trembling for 10 minutes that I enjoy.  It's not my stomach bumping into my throat as I scream on the way down that I enjoy either.  And it's certainly not the indelible image these things leave in the minds of spectators.  No, it's the feeling of conquering a fear, however small and unreasonable it may be.

We both managed two jumps apiece, and afterwards, all that was left was to reenact our terror for the camera:

Tonight's dinner

Chicken in a dijon-tarragon cream sauce with mashed potatoes and asparagus

I don't cook every night, and I don't always cook the healthiest possible meal when I do.  But I will contend that a homecooked meal still outranks a restaurant meal, given the restaurant industry's penchant for dousing meals in sodium.

Kathleen came over tonight and we made chicken in a dijon-tarragon cream sauce with mashed potatoes and steamed asparagus.

The meal was, in a word, decadent.

Two satisfied customers

Hardcore

Another gem from athletic company Pearl Izumi, and this one couldn't better describe my run last night.

Met up with Suze of Suze Does Life fame for a short run around the Cooper River.  The temperature had reached 98 degrees during the day, and was still in the 90's when we met at 8 o'clock.  But within minutes of setting out, the skies darkened and the temperature plummeted. Minutes later it began raining.  Brilliant flashes of lightning followed us around the course as rain pummeled us and thunder rumbled in the distance.  It was a run under end-of-days skies with just enough swiftness and ominous build up to make you think God finally had enough of us down here, but at the last moment thought better of it.  It was the most hardcore run I've had in a long time.

I don't have any running friends.  Not a single one.  I spend so much time running alone that it was nice to have a running partner to talk to last night.  Upcoming races, training, whatever comes to the runner's mind.  Suze just started running last November and is already planning to run the Philly Marathon this November.

Hardcore indeed.

Crazy Town

Crazy Town is not a real place.  It's a state of mind achieved when external forces and physical exertion create a perfect storm of half-baked daftness.  Crazy Town is achieved on days like today:

Some people ask me what I think about when I'm running for extended periods of time. Unfortunately, the truth is a bit... strange.  The outskirts of Crazy Town appear early on an 8 mile run with a simple refrain:

Stacy's mom has got it going on.

She's all I want, and I've waited for so long.

If I could tell you why "Stacy's Mom," the Grammy-nominated, 2003 one hit wonder from Fountains of Wayne entered my head out of nowhere, then I might be smart enough not to go running during a heatwave in the first place.  It was bad enough listening to the song's chorus loop through my head on repeat, but it got worse when I started substituting things around me for the real lyrics.

That water fountain has got it going on

That crazy goose has got it going on

That beefy guy rocking the 80's Walkman has got it going on

That broken water fountain has not got it going on...

And so on and so forth, ad nauseam, until the end of the 8 miles.

Welcome to Crazy Town.  Enjoy your stay.

Article on barefoot running

There is an article in today's New York Times that focuses on the barefoot trend in running right now and the science behind it.  Proponents argue that when humans ran thousands of years ago to chase down dinner on the savannah, they didn't wear anything on their feet.  People who are prone to running injuries, therefor, can thank their over-designed shoes for what ails them, and can forgo the injuries by returning to the basics.

Given my rant on running shoes last week, you might think I'd be in favor of the barefoot running movement, but here's my response: I will never become a barefoot runner for the same reason I will never become a Paleo eater (another trend sweeping the fitness world right now).  I believe in the saying, "If it ain't broke, don't try to fix it."  In this case, I mean that literally.

Aside from the usual minor aches and pains incurred in a 60 mile training week, I have never experienced a running injury.  No shin splints, no IT band issues, no pulled muscles, no blisters and no lost toenails.  Why switch to barefoot running, or Vibrams, if I'm doing just fine with the shoes I have?  So once again, I'll just stick with whatever is cheap and comfortable and leave it at that.

Now excuse me while I go find a piece of wood to knock on.

Heaven in a glass

The temperature is slowly rising again here in New Jersey, but I still managed 8 miles in the heat today.  I imagine by week's end, when temperatures hit triple digits, running outside will be worse than being a contestant on a Japanese game show.  While watching Twilight.  With the sound turned down and Gilbert Gottfried doing all of the voices.  But not by much.

When I finished running, I drank about four gallons of Gatorade.  Still not satiated, I created this in the blender:

Ladies and gentlemen, I have been to heaven, and it is made of mango-peach smoothies.

Movie Monday XVIII

This is what the Movie Monday series is all about.  It's another video from the guy who brought you this one, and is one of the most inspiring videos I've ever seen; I literally got chills the first time I watched it.

Watch Heather Dorniden race at the Big 10 Indoor Track Championships in 2008.  Watch her trip and fall with one lap to go.  And as the drums from the music kick in, watch what happens next.

"This is what all races are about.  This is what life is about."

Baja Fresher

16 miles this afternoon gave me a hankering for burritos.  Not the fast-food kind, stuffed with God knows what, but the homemade kind:

Wheat tortilla, chicken with spices, tomatoes, avocado, onions, cheese, black beans, pinto beans, sour cream, yellow squash and zucchini.  Serve with skim milk and a dash of mold.

Man vs. Burrito

Does a body good.

The great mold invasion

Here's a fun fact: apparently my apartment has mold.  My roommate has been suffering from allergies and other ailments over the past few months, and his doctor suggested he set up a mold test.  It came back positive:

Hope you weren't eating just now.

Our landlord doesn't have the money to properly fix the problem, and my roommate wants to leave at the end of this month, skipping out on the last two months of the lease.

Is it in anyway gross that I want to stay?  I love this apartment and its location, and I have yet to notice any mold-related symptoms at all.

This could get interesting...

Philly Beer Week

I'm less than three weeks out from the marathon, and if you know me, you know that means I'm once again abstaining from alcohol.  Losing the booze.  Off the sauce.  Dodging the grog.  You get the idea.  Why?  I find it helps me stay focused, cut weight, and save money.  Last fall I didn't touch it for almost two months.  This spring I'm being a bit more sensible and keeping it to just under a month.

Not to paint myself as a drunkard, but I do enjoy the occasional tipple, if you will.  Which is why it's killing me that tomorrow marks the start of Philly Beer Week.

There are literally hundreds of events going on all over the City of Brotherly Love this week, with beer from all over the nation.  Sigh... Some people have Lent to practice self sacrifice; I have marathon season.

Heat wave

I think all marathoners have a streak of masochism in them.  There is no other way to explain why something so painful should feel so good and keep us coming back for more.  That being said, I'm trying out a rather perverse experiment this summer:

I'm going to see if I can go without air conditioning.  There are several reasons, money and environmental concerns among them, but the one most related to running goes like this: I spent six summers living at camp in the woods.  In those six summers, I lived in a small cabin with screen windows and no air conditioning.  My only contact with air conditioning came when I did paperwork at headquarters.  The human body is highly adaptable, and I simply adapted to the fluctuation in temperature - heatwaves included - and dealt with it.

Last summer I had a terrible time running.  I had trouble with simple four mile runs, and I wonder if it was because I spent all of my time in air conditioning and never gave my body a chance to acclimate.  I'm wondering if I can spend more time outside this summer, then it won't be such a shock to my body every time I go for a run.

New Jersey is currently experiencing its first heat wave of the season right now, and I feel like I'm about to go to sleep in an oven tonight.  We'll see how long this experiment lasts...

New shoes

I figured there must be someone out there who actually cares what shoes I run in, so here you go:

So this is what passes for content on a running blog, eh?

I recently won a $50 gift certificate (redeemable with $100 purchase) to the Haddonfield Running Company, and I needed a new pair of shoes for the marathon next month anyway, so that's where I headed today.

A man asked what I currently run in, and I told him Nike.  It looked like he was waiting for me to finish, like I was going to tell him the name of the shoe, the "Nike Matrix G3 11's," or whatever passes for running shoe names nowadays.  But as I've said elsewhere on this blog, I know my shoes are Nike and that's about it, because I don't particularly care what I run in.  I don't believe in fancy running equipment of any kind.  In the end, hard work will make me a faster runner, not an expensive, high tech pair of running shoes, so just give me something that's cheap and comfortable and let's move on.

The man was already helping another customer, a woman he chastised for buying her last pair of running shoes at Target.  According to him, "never buy running shoes for less than $100, because they won't be running shoes."  I found this sad, because I think it's similar to selling people weight-loss pills; it's just more false hope.  People shouldn't be led to believe expensive shoes will make them faster, and people shouldn't have to shell out $100 or more just to be allowed to call themselves runners.

At any rate, the woman who helped me had me walk around the store to check my pronation, and then offered me three pairs of shoes to try on: Adidas, Asics, and Saucony.  I chose the Sauconys.

Movie Monday XVII

It's schadenfreude at its best: four Japanese marathoners battling it out in the homestretch of a marathon.  Just as one of them pulls ahead to certain victory, he unfortunately follows the lead of the pacecar which turns down a sidestreet at the last minute, and the resulting video becomes a YouTube hit.

Revenge of the 20 miler

Marathon training schedules generally don't care if you're having a relaxing weekend in the woods. They don't care if you'd rather spend your morning sitting by the lake.  No matter where you are, you have to stick to the schedule.  So my peaceful weekend was briefly disturbed by another raging 20 miler this morning.

I'm at Camp Ockanickon for the weekend, running in the same places in which I trained for my first marathon when I worked here years ago.  The good thing is that camp owns 565 acres on the western tip of the Pine Barrens, which means trails - lots and lots of trails: blissfully uncrowded, devoid of cars and their exhaust, shady, soft trails.  I would estimate 80% of my run this morning was on dirt roads and trails.  It was a nice change of pace from running on concrete sidewalks and asphalt roads all the time.

But a 20 mile run is still a 20 mile run, and I was hurting in the homestretch, especially as the morning temperature crept into the upper 80's.  The only thing that got me through was the thought of jumping in the lake to cool off when I finished.  I didn't even stop to take off my shoes.  I grabbed my Gatorade and ran with it into the waterfront, then to the end of the dock and jumped. I stopped my watch in midair and landed in a cannonball, much to the confusion of those around me.

Truly the only proper way to end a 20 miler

My legs felt better afterwards than they ever have after a 20 miler.  If only I could always end a long run this way.

Back on the trails

To an Old Camper

By Mary S. Edgar

You may think my dear, when you grow quite old

You have left camp days behind,

But I know the scent of wood smoke

Will always call to mind

Little fires at twilight

And trails you used to find.

You may think someday you have quite grown up

And feel so worldly wise,

But suddenly from out of the past

A vision will arise

Of merry folk with brown bare knees

And laughter in their eyes.

You may live in a house built to your tastes

In the nicest part of town,

But someday for your old camp togs

You'd change your latest gown

And trade it for a balsam bed

Where stars all night look down.

You may find yourself grown wealthy

Have all that gold can buy,

But you'd toss aside a fortune

For days 'neath an open sky

With sunlight and blue water

And white clouds sailing by.

For once you have been a camper

Then something has come to stay

Deep in your heart forever

Which nothing can take away,

And heaven can only be heaven,

With a camp in which to play.

At camp for Memorial Day weekend, and couldn't be happier.