The Price

There is always a price to pay, even if you are trying to do something better for yourself.

I have had "special needs feet" ever since I was a little kid, and thanks to my dad - from whom I inherited the feet - he got me to a podiatrist in Idaho Falls when I was 11 or 12.  I've worn custom orthotics ever since.  My feet are ridiculously flat and roll inward - or pronate - badly without support.  The orthotics provide that support, and I got new custom orthotics made last summer as I started to increase my mileage.

However, even with the orthotics, my ankles still roll inward.  Over the course of two marathons, a couple of smaller races, and a few hundred miles of training, the constant rolling has stretched the tendon that connects the "shin splint" muscle to the foot.  In spite of ice, stretching, and a whopping total of 11 miles in 3 weeks since the marathon the swelling is still as much as it was before.  I guess if anything makes me feel better, it is that both left and right ankles are affected equally

So I guess this is the price I get to pay for my recently-adopted passion.  I'm not too concerned because they generally don't hurt, and from what I have read "the anterior tibialis tendon almost never ruptures."  Woo-hoo!  Nonetheless, I am headed to see an orthopedist next month and will see if some orthotics that are beefed up even more will help.

It doesn't hurt most of the time, and even when it does it doesn't slow me down.  It isn't getting any worse and it isn't getting any better.  Hopefully, the doc will have some helpful ideas.

In the meantime, I will continue to run.  I mean, c'mon...it almost never ruptures!  :)

What a difference a year makes

For a few years not so long ago, I slogged along through each day, month, and year - and while not necessarily miserable, I most certainly wasn't happy.  A lot of things happened to turn the tables on that trend, not the least of which was making the decision to get off my fat a**.  I met my beautiful bride not too long thereafter and we started our quite memorable journey that brought her and Christy here just over a year ago.

A few months prior to that, I made a decision (in the form of another good reason to go visit the girls in Seattle) to enter the inaugural Seattle Rock 'N' Roll Marathon and Half-Marathon and run my first half.  It turned out that was to be the trip that started with a flight to Seattle and ended with several hundred miles in a moving van bringing all the girls' possessions back to Colorado.

Half-Marathon Course

This much I can say for sure...if it wasn't for that decision, that trip, and that half-marathon I would not be going to Boston next April. One year ago yesterday was the half-marathon.  I trained, and I knew I would be able to finish it, although I wasn't totally sure (until I did it) how fast I would be able to run it.  Two marathons later - and upcoming trips to New York City and Boston - I'm not even sure what the world would look like had it not been for Gabriella and the decision to go to Seattle.

What a difference a year makes.  :-)

When is it "Enough"?

When is enough enough? I was thinking the question to myself as my beautiful bride asked me almost the same exact question.

The quick and unrehearsed answer in my head is: “When I’m dead. Which will be a lot longer from now than it would have been because I running…”

The question was asked after I broached the subject of a half marathon four weeks after I finish the New York City Marathon. The half marathon happens to be in Las Vegas. (Obligatory “Vegas, Baby!!”) Before a friend had asked me if I had considered doing this, I thought perhaps I might go back to Arizona to run the Rock ‘N’ Roll Half Marathon there before the legislative session and as a tune-up race for Boston in April. It was appropriately pointed out to me that vacation plans of the recent past, present, and discussed future have all seemed to revolve around a marathon or half-marathon event – at least when I bring them up, anyway. That’s fair…and I’m quite sure we’ll find a compromise.

However, the question still remains – when is it enough? And why has running races become such an obsession? And when does self-challenge become pure selfishness?

Right now, the marathon list is short, and I wouldn’t do more than two in 2011, even if I could:

• New York – November 7, 2010
• Boston – April 8, 2011
• Indianapolis – November 5, 2011

But sneaking in half marathon here and there is good training. Race situations are good. The challenge is good. It keeps me sharp and gives me a purpose, as opposed to just slogging out the same miles alone on the same trails all the time. I just need to figure out balance, I suppose.

When is it enough? Only when this purpose on my life negatively impacts the other purposes in my life…and those of others. That’s the “balancing” part, and no doubt it will be subject to discussion and negotiation. But it isn’t going to end…at least not as long as I can keep doing it. I sat on my fat ass for far too long, and now I can make up for lost time by doing things that I could have been doing (much faster, no doubt) when my body was young.

Future marathons? An unedited list with the month of the year in which each marathon occurs might include:

• New Orleans – February
• Nashville – April
• Big Sur – May
• Vancouver - May
• Missoula - July
• Twin Cities – October
• Chicago - October
• Long Beach – October
• St. George - October
• San Antonio – November

I know I can’t do all these and others I might add to the list – or maybe I can. Well...at least I know I don’t have to do them all… :-)

Mission Accomplished

San Diego – a city I had good reason to have mixed feelings about – is now my new favorite place in the whole world. That is where I climbed the mountain, not only setting aside the past but also reaching a monumental goal and cementing part of the future.

The past is the past, and I’d just as soon leave it at that. However, it isn’t hard at all to get me to talk about the 2010 San Diego Rock ‘N’ Roll Marathon and qualifying for the 2011 Boston Marathon.

I wasn’t totally impressed with my training, but I knew that the shortcomings were not a lack of desire or any amount of laziness. 16 weeks to focus on one morning’s race can be a grind, and sometimes it seemed like a long time away. Somehow, crossing the finish, shattering my only other marathon time, and qualifying for Boston brought everything back into focus. A couple of miles before the finish, I was actually thinking about my last long run where I intended to run 22 and struggled to get to 20 at an 8:00/mile pace. It bothered me at the time, but was easy to shrug off when I knew I could damn near walk to the finish line at that point and qualify for Boston.

The first part of the marathon was a little challenging mentally. While I thought I had given myself plenty of time at the start village to turn in my gear bag and make my final visit to the porta-pottie, I forgot to account for the throngs of half-marathoners – something I didn’t have to contend with in Arizona, since they had a different start. I waited in line for about 15 minutes and realized that I was not going to have enough time. So I headed to the start knowing that I was going to have to make a “pit stop” along the way. Actually, once I made that decision, I was calm about it.

The start was disorganized. The corral bosses basically just dropped their ropes and everyone started pushing forward, instead of separating the corral starts by a couple of minutes like they said would occur. As a result, there were lots of bodies to weave through once I got my pace. 7:15/mile to start out…it was a little fast, but I knew it was safe for a little while and that I could ease up on the drop into downtown. Of course, I didn’t really remember to do that and ended up running Mile 5 at a 6:53 pace. After my “pit stop” just before the end of Mile 7, I was able to settle down and focus on the long climb out of downtown that would last through Mile 11. In the meantime, I was able to enjoy the downtown scenery, buildings, and landmarks. There is still a lot to go back and see.

The climb out of downtown wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be, and I found myself at the top of the hill, looking at a two-mile drop to the halfway point and sitting at around a 7:20 to 7:25 per mile race pace with a lot of gas still in the tank. That is about the time I started thinking I had a good shot at my Boston Qualifier time. When I crossed the halfway point in 1:36:44 and knew I was running at a 7:22 pace, I remember saying out loud to myself, “Oh yeah – I f**king got this bitch.” And the sun was still behind the clouds.

Not too long after this point, I caught up with the 3:15:00 pace group. That was the first time it occurred to me that I might be going too fast and wouldn’t have enough left for the last few miles. I hung with them for a few miles, daring myself to think that I could break 3:15:00, which is the next highest standard for BQ times for men…not that I needed it. The Boston Marathon is on April 18, 2011, which is 9 days after my 40th birthday. I needed only to break 3:20:00 – the qualifying time for a 40-year old – because Boston requires you qualify based on the age you will be when the marathon is run. Still, the thought of breaking 3:15:00 was running as a pack right in front of me. And then the sun came out…

Instantly, everyone warmed up. About as fast as the sun came out, I intentionally dropped my pace because I knew this was a game-changer. The 3:15:00 group slipped further ahead, but I focused on one single purpose – 3:20:59 or better. Keep it simple and don’t get greedy.

I’m glad I did that because it turned out that the last 10 kilometers was the hardest stretch I’ve run to date. Just after Mile 17, the course reached Mission Bay and went north for about a mile and then turned back south. At Mile 19, I was directly west of where I entered the Mission Bay area and continued south from there. I was starting to get very warm, and my legs were screaming at me. I found a salt packet I had in my pocket and because it was wet, I just chewed it until the salt was gone and then I spit out the paper wad. At Mile 20, I reached a water station and decided to walk through it to get fluids and drench my head. After a couple hundred feet, I picked up the pace again, crossing the 20.5 mile split point at 2:31:49 – a 7:24/mile pace.

Quick math told me that I could do the entire rest of the way at around an 8:30 pace and still come in under the wire, but I had no desire to cut it that close. I pressed on and crossed the entrance on to Fiesta Island at Mile 21. I covered Mile 20 in 8:02 (that included the walking), Mile 21 in 7:35, and Mile 22 in 7:34.

At this point, I was headed north on the leeward (east) side of Fiesta Island. It was a hot, humid desert of misery. Many runners were stopping, walking, groaning, or struggling; and there were no crowds to cheer on runners like there had been most of the rest of the course. It was hot, lonely, and demoralizing. My legs were cramping a bit and I was dead tired. I knew I would finish in time, but I needed a moment. I stopped next to a steel drum trash barrel and stretched for what seemed like 20 minutes but was probably more line one minute. I retied my right shoe, even though it probably didn’t really need it. I started going again, knowing I had just about a 5k to the finish, and completed Mile 23 in 8:50.

I don’t know where the strength to finish came from. I don’t even really remember much of the last three miles. But I know I wasn’t content to come in just under the wire so I pressed on, finishing Mile 24 in 7:50, Mile 25 in 7:44, Mile 26 in 7:31, and “sprinted” the last 0.2 miles at a 7:16 pace.

3:17:51. A PR by 10:25 – almost 24 seconds/mile faster.

And a Boston qualifier by 3:08.

Mission Accomplished.