It's now Thursday January 22, 4 days since marathongate. I am still on crutches, still able to put very little weight on my right leg, but there are some signs of improvement and I'm confident that a few weeks of rest should set me straight.
Jill has already decided to do the Olathe Half-Marathon, in Olathe, KS, a neighboring town to Overland Park at the end of March, along with several friends. She's been universally congratulated at work ever since the race, and has become a pied piper of sorts, inspiring those around her to attempt what she has already accomplished. Her long-term goal is a full marathon of her own, though she thinks next year might be more realistic than later this, where Chicago had been eyed as a potential destination.
I of course will not now be able to do the same race, but will, I think, enjoy being on the other side of the wall cheering her and her pals on. Obviously I'd prefer to be competing, but as I enjoy the whole atmosphere of a race, I'll take that as the next best thing.
As for me running again, assuming I can once more take to the streets in 6-8 weeks, my first race will be the 4-mile trolley run in late April, here in Kansas City. It's the largest 4 mile event in the country, with over 15,000 competitors expected to line up. Jill did the run last year, and I met her at the end, and for me, this was perhaps the biggest reason I finally completed my first marathon a few days ago. It was the first time I'd been at a race that large and the atmosphere, the faces on the finishers, the joy on Jill's face as she crossed the line, even the free food at the end, made for an atmosphere that I found intoxicating, and led me down the path I've been following ever since.
I've told those that are interested that I will one day run another marathon, though I suspect it will be an occasional event, a once a year or once every couple of years type thing, just to prove I can, and to keep it as the special distance. I'm not looking to dilute these ultimate experiences by doing too many, nor am I looking to render myself lame by the age of 45. The marathon is both terrific and terrible, and I'm committed to treating it with the necessary reverence.
I do however think that running races is something I will continue to keep in my life for the foreseeable future. I'm officially addicted. Whether it be a 5k, 4-mile, 10k, Half-Marathon or something more exotically measured, you'll see me regularly lining up and exorcising demons with hundreds, if not thousands of others. At 35, I've rediscovered something beautiful.
That, and the t-shirts are useful souvenirs.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
The Aftermath
Jill was waiting for me at the finish, a very welcome sight, but her face told of her own sufferings. She finished her Half in 3 hours and change, and was rather disappointed with how it had gone. Personally, I don't think she had anything to be sad about. She got her medal too, and did something that she'd never done before. I wished she were happier, but as the day went on, I think she did start to realize the achievement more and feel better about it.
Also, she was in much better shape than me. I somehow made it back to the car and drove back to the hotel, but after a few hours of leg stiffening, I simply couldn't put any weight on the right leg at all. Fearing I would have a very hard time making it through three airports and two flights the next day I finally decided I had to seek help. An urgent care facility was open close by, so we went and spent two and a half very long hours in a soulless facility filled with coughing children and bored orderlies. The doctor, who it must be said didn't exactly do a thorough examination, determined it was "probably a torn muscle", said he saw it in marathoners all the time, and sent me on my way with a prescription for hardcore ibuprofen and a pair of crutches.
The crutches certainly helped keep weight off the leg, so they were a relief, and finally, at around 11pm, we got back to the hotel room and went to bed, knowing we'd have to be up, for the second night in a row, by 5am the next morning.
Here's a tip for you. If you want to get through an airport quickly, go on crutches. Fake it if you have to, but seriously, take note. I had been dreading the trip, but it was just about the smoothest travel experience I'd had. Assistants were only too willing to provide wheelchairs, which, in addition to getting through the airport quickly, also get through such nightmares as security lines in double quick time. No-one cares when a person in a wheelchair jumps the queue. On top of that, the check-in woman upgraded our tickets to give us free TV on the flights, and even changed our seats on the first flight to the first row, making it easier to disembark. It was awesome.
So I made it home, damaged but alive. I fulfilled my dream, though not quite in the way I'd hoped, and yes, I think in time I would like to try again, good health permitting. I won't run another one unless I feel 100% at the start line though. It's now Wednesday, three days later, and I can still put almost no weight on the leg. In fact, if it doesn't improve in the next couple of days, I will seek a second opinion on the extent and cause of the injury.
That doesn't mean I regret pushing through and finishing. As I've mentioned before, I might do more marathons, but I'll never do another first marathon, and it has been my experience that mental scars are more difficult to recover from than physical ones. If I'd dropped out, I'd be forever regretful. The way things did go, while I have allowed myself to occasionally second guess some of the decisions I made during training, I'm satisfied that I did everything I possibly could have done on the day of the race and pushed myself beyond the limits of which I felt capable.
I think with the passage of time, and after my leg heals, I will grow to cherish this experience every bit as much as if it had gone perfectly and I'd registered a sub-4 hour time. I've proved I can do it the hard way. I've proved that I have the character to complete a bad marathon as well as a good one. I've proved that it means more to me to hurt myself succeeding than protect myself failing. I believe it has been a life changing event.
I will probably post another one or two entries with some final thoughts, then likely will wrap this blog up. Writing this, like running, has been a very personal experience that I expect few, if anyone else, will have been interested in, but on the off chance someone did stumble across this at some point, I'd be curious to know what you thought and if you'd shared any similar experiences in your own life. If not, well, as with the running itself, it's something I think I'll enjoy looking back over and remembering what turned out to be a very cathartic time of my life.
Also, she was in much better shape than me. I somehow made it back to the car and drove back to the hotel, but after a few hours of leg stiffening, I simply couldn't put any weight on the right leg at all. Fearing I would have a very hard time making it through three airports and two flights the next day I finally decided I had to seek help. An urgent care facility was open close by, so we went and spent two and a half very long hours in a soulless facility filled with coughing children and bored orderlies. The doctor, who it must be said didn't exactly do a thorough examination, determined it was "probably a torn muscle", said he saw it in marathoners all the time, and sent me on my way with a prescription for hardcore ibuprofen and a pair of crutches.
The crutches certainly helped keep weight off the leg, so they were a relief, and finally, at around 11pm, we got back to the hotel room and went to bed, knowing we'd have to be up, for the second night in a row, by 5am the next morning.
Here's a tip for you. If you want to get through an airport quickly, go on crutches. Fake it if you have to, but seriously, take note. I had been dreading the trip, but it was just about the smoothest travel experience I'd had. Assistants were only too willing to provide wheelchairs, which, in addition to getting through the airport quickly, also get through such nightmares as security lines in double quick time. No-one cares when a person in a wheelchair jumps the queue. On top of that, the check-in woman upgraded our tickets to give us free TV on the flights, and even changed our seats on the first flight to the first row, making it easier to disembark. It was awesome.
So I made it home, damaged but alive. I fulfilled my dream, though not quite in the way I'd hoped, and yes, I think in time I would like to try again, good health permitting. I won't run another one unless I feel 100% at the start line though. It's now Wednesday, three days later, and I can still put almost no weight on the leg. In fact, if it doesn't improve in the next couple of days, I will seek a second opinion on the extent and cause of the injury.
That doesn't mean I regret pushing through and finishing. As I've mentioned before, I might do more marathons, but I'll never do another first marathon, and it has been my experience that mental scars are more difficult to recover from than physical ones. If I'd dropped out, I'd be forever regretful. The way things did go, while I have allowed myself to occasionally second guess some of the decisions I made during training, I'm satisfied that I did everything I possibly could have done on the day of the race and pushed myself beyond the limits of which I felt capable.
I think with the passage of time, and after my leg heals, I will grow to cherish this experience every bit as much as if it had gone perfectly and I'd registered a sub-4 hour time. I've proved I can do it the hard way. I've proved that I have the character to complete a bad marathon as well as a good one. I've proved that it means more to me to hurt myself succeeding than protect myself failing. I believe it has been a life changing event.
I will probably post another one or two entries with some final thoughts, then likely will wrap this blog up. Writing this, like running, has been a very personal experience that I expect few, if anyone else, will have been interested in, but on the off chance someone did stumble across this at some point, I'd be curious to know what you thought and if you'd shared any similar experiences in your own life. If not, well, as with the running itself, it's something I think I'll enjoy looking back over and remembering what turned out to be a very cathartic time of my life.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
The Marathon - Part 2
A lot of thoughts were going through my mind at this point. In no particular order, here were some...
1. What would my friends and family think?
2. What about all the people who'd donated money for charity?
3. If I did somehow make it to the finish, would I be dead last?
4. Finish or not, how would I make it home, through two flights and three airports the next day?
5. What would I do if the left leg went out too?
The last question was a big one. Up until now, leftie was doing almost all the hard work, but there's only so much I could ask of it. Would it hold out?
I hauled myself up and kept going, resolving that I would not stop again for any reason. I knew I might not be able to start again if I did.
The next few miles ticked by slowly, but the ice bags and tylenol did help somewhat. It also illicited some sympathetic words of encouragement from onlookers. I ate my GU, went through the Scottsdale Art District I'd ambled so comfortably through only one day earlier - I was a little sad that I hadn't got to enjoy this part running. I'd been looking forward to that section ever since I'd done the drive through. Limping painfully through it wasn't how I envisioned it back then.
At mile 20, I started picturing myself back in Overland Park doing one of the routes I'd been running for the past few months. I always ran loops of 10k or less, so I knew exactly how far I had to go, and though I hadn't done it walking, I was at least vaguely aware of the fact that I'd never gone further at one time, walk or run, in my life than I had completed then.
The sun became a factor over the next few miles. I was by this stage at peace with the fact I was going to finish in a much slower time than hoped for. I started picturing myself as a heroic warrior with some serious injury, perhaps a gunshot wound, heroically making his way back to base camp to present news of the war to the General lest the battle would be lost. As my skin turned red and my eyes squinted, I walked down a wide open highway in an increasingly sparse crowd of runners and spectators.
At mile 24, I could feel the leg start to deteriorate more, but knew that with only 2 miles to go, it would basically take something like it falling off altogether for me to stop. Nevertheless, it slowed me down even more, and I started wondering what exactly I had done so wrong to deserve this.
At mile 25, another runner came up on my shoulder and said something - I don't even know what, but it was enough for me to strike up a conversation. He too was carrying an injury - a bad ankle - and seemed to come at the perfect time for me, being quite willing to keep me company the whole way in. We passed the last water station and grabbed a drink, and all at once, we saw the last turn into the Sun Devil stadium parking lot ahead. We turned, then turned again, and there it was... the oasis in the desert - the arch representing the culmination of 4+ months of hard slog in the cold, the heat, the rain and the snow.
Determined that my finish line picture would be of me running, I tried to break back into a run for the last few steps, but instead managed only a strange skipping motion, my right leg now able to take almost no weight at all.
My finish time, 5:46:07, was slower than I would have considered possible, yet I was far from last, with runners, walkers, joggers, and crawlers still coming in. I said goodbye to my new friend and headed straight into the medical tent for more ice, my biggest regret later that I hadn't secured his email address.
I had done it. Everything that I'd feared came to pass, and yet, somehow, I'd fought through it and finished my marathon.
1. What would my friends and family think?
2. What about all the people who'd donated money for charity?
3. If I did somehow make it to the finish, would I be dead last?
4. Finish or not, how would I make it home, through two flights and three airports the next day?
5. What would I do if the left leg went out too?
The last question was a big one. Up until now, leftie was doing almost all the hard work, but there's only so much I could ask of it. Would it hold out?
I hauled myself up and kept going, resolving that I would not stop again for any reason. I knew I might not be able to start again if I did.
The next few miles ticked by slowly, but the ice bags and tylenol did help somewhat. It also illicited some sympathetic words of encouragement from onlookers. I ate my GU, went through the Scottsdale Art District I'd ambled so comfortably through only one day earlier - I was a little sad that I hadn't got to enjoy this part running. I'd been looking forward to that section ever since I'd done the drive through. Limping painfully through it wasn't how I envisioned it back then.
At mile 20, I started picturing myself back in Overland Park doing one of the routes I'd been running for the past few months. I always ran loops of 10k or less, so I knew exactly how far I had to go, and though I hadn't done it walking, I was at least vaguely aware of the fact that I'd never gone further at one time, walk or run, in my life than I had completed then.
The sun became a factor over the next few miles. I was by this stage at peace with the fact I was going to finish in a much slower time than hoped for. I started picturing myself as a heroic warrior with some serious injury, perhaps a gunshot wound, heroically making his way back to base camp to present news of the war to the General lest the battle would be lost. As my skin turned red and my eyes squinted, I walked down a wide open highway in an increasingly sparse crowd of runners and spectators.
At mile 24, I could feel the leg start to deteriorate more, but knew that with only 2 miles to go, it would basically take something like it falling off altogether for me to stop. Nevertheless, it slowed me down even more, and I started wondering what exactly I had done so wrong to deserve this.
At mile 25, another runner came up on my shoulder and said something - I don't even know what, but it was enough for me to strike up a conversation. He too was carrying an injury - a bad ankle - and seemed to come at the perfect time for me, being quite willing to keep me company the whole way in. We passed the last water station and grabbed a drink, and all at once, we saw the last turn into the Sun Devil stadium parking lot ahead. We turned, then turned again, and there it was... the oasis in the desert - the arch representing the culmination of 4+ months of hard slog in the cold, the heat, the rain and the snow.
Determined that my finish line picture would be of me running, I tried to break back into a run for the last few steps, but instead managed only a strange skipping motion, my right leg now able to take almost no weight at all.
My finish time, 5:46:07, was slower than I would have considered possible, yet I was far from last, with runners, walkers, joggers, and crawlers still coming in. I said goodbye to my new friend and headed straight into the medical tent for more ice, my biggest regret later that I hadn't secured his email address.
I had done it. Everything that I'd feared came to pass, and yet, somehow, I'd fought through it and finished my marathon.
The Marathon - Part 1
It's now Tuesday. I'm back in KC, and my marathon experience is over. I was going to write about it right after the race, but the truth was, I was too exhausted, mentally, physically and emotionally. Yesterday I have less of an excuse for, but the travel home and the usual "getting home" type errands (picking up the dogs, getting food etc) got in the way then. So finally, now, here's the full account, and needless to say.... actually, enough of my yapping. Let's boogie.
The Rock n' Roll Arizona Marathon
Before the race, I was quite nervous. My leg was still causing me some concern, but I figured I surely wasn't the only one with a last-minute niggle. I needed to just shut up and run. If I'm honest, I knew that I was probably playing with fire a little by risking it. It simply didn't feel like my other aches I've encountered through training. It wasn't even that it was more painful. It was just different somehow.
I resolved to ignore it, and give it my all. My theory was that if I made it to the first major turn, at about mile 5, and felt OK, that I would probably be able to get through the run and then I'd deal with any injury afterwards, safe in the knowledge that I'd banked my first marathon successfully.
The gun went off right on time, and off we trotted. As I crossed the start line, I saw John Bingham standing with Bart Yasso and some others on a little balcony type thing a few feet off the ground. I took my hat off and waved it as I passed, and was pleased to see him recognize me, as he shouted "Hey man, looking good!" while I ran by.
The first mile or two went by uneventfully enough. Off to one side, I saw what might well have been the first person to drop out. He was stretching, and looking in some pain. Rather selfishly, I said to myself "Well, worst comes to the worst, I won't be the first person to drop out". My leg was feeling OK. I could certainly feel some pain, but it was confined to the inside shin and I didn't think it would restrict me too much if it stayed at that level.
Perhaps the most comfortable segment of the race was from about mile 5, when I made that all important turn, to mile 9. I started to feel very comfortable. I was maintaining an easyish pace of around 9:30/mile, but gradually speeding up as I found my groove, and I had some fun with a group of runners dressed in Foot Locker outfits who were giving out beads. I took their picture and received beads in return. I wore these for the next mile or two before they began to be a distraction, and so I took them off and presented them to a young girl who was watching from the side of the road.
Up until now, my biggest issue was my shorts. The elastic lining had long gone, and I think a combination of my weight loss and me having two GU packets in the back pocket made them very loose. I ended up having to hold the GU packets in my hands to avoid having to constantly adjust it. I peed in a bush at around mile 8 - every port-a-pot seemed to have a line - and motored on.
We went up a very slight incline at around mile 9 and a woman said to me "I guess this is the hill, huh?" - I told her there was another one at mile 24 to look forward to and sped off.
It was mile 11 when the problems started. I'd almost forgotten about the injury altogether but found out very quickly at that point that it had absolutely not forgotten about me. The pain started on the inside, suddenly becoming much sharper, and then the dreaded outside shooting pains started and my leg began to buckle. I tried running through it, but soon I was limping quite badly. At mile 12, with no improvement, I started to accept for the first time that I might not make it. I felt tears begin to accumulate behind my eye, and tried to tell myself that this too would pass.
It didn't.
I somehow managed to get through another three miles before the reality hit me. I walked through a water station and this time, couldn't start running again. My right leg simply had nothing left. I had completed the first half in just over 2 hours, but I knew I had only one chance of making it through the second half and that was to walk. In all the training runs and tune-up races I've done for this thing, from a 1 mile jog to a 20 mile long run, I've never onced stop to walk other than to get a drink, and now, here I was, finally at the race I'd been working to the whole time and I was walking with 11 miles still to go. It was disheartening and disappointing.
Initially I didn't feel too bad. I was limping, but mainly able to keep propelling myself forward, but by about mile 18, which seemed to take an eternity to come, I was badly struggling, my limps becoming more pronounced by the step. I began to fear the overcompensating would soon take its toll on my left leg. A medical tent was set up at this point, and, seeing my discomfort, a volunteer offered me ice, which I gratefully accepted. I sat down for a second, they attached two ice bags to my leg and gave me two tylenol. I told another woman I wanted to get back out there and she said "For sure", in a very certain kind of way, but I knew there was a chance I wouldn't even be able to stand back up, let alone walk another 8 miles to the finish line.
The Rock n' Roll Arizona Marathon
Before the race, I was quite nervous. My leg was still causing me some concern, but I figured I surely wasn't the only one with a last-minute niggle. I needed to just shut up and run. If I'm honest, I knew that I was probably playing with fire a little by risking it. It simply didn't feel like my other aches I've encountered through training. It wasn't even that it was more painful. It was just different somehow.
I resolved to ignore it, and give it my all. My theory was that if I made it to the first major turn, at about mile 5, and felt OK, that I would probably be able to get through the run and then I'd deal with any injury afterwards, safe in the knowledge that I'd banked my first marathon successfully.
The gun went off right on time, and off we trotted. As I crossed the start line, I saw John Bingham standing with Bart Yasso and some others on a little balcony type thing a few feet off the ground. I took my hat off and waved it as I passed, and was pleased to see him recognize me, as he shouted "Hey man, looking good!" while I ran by.
The first mile or two went by uneventfully enough. Off to one side, I saw what might well have been the first person to drop out. He was stretching, and looking in some pain. Rather selfishly, I said to myself "Well, worst comes to the worst, I won't be the first person to drop out". My leg was feeling OK. I could certainly feel some pain, but it was confined to the inside shin and I didn't think it would restrict me too much if it stayed at that level.
Perhaps the most comfortable segment of the race was from about mile 5, when I made that all important turn, to mile 9. I started to feel very comfortable. I was maintaining an easyish pace of around 9:30/mile, but gradually speeding up as I found my groove, and I had some fun with a group of runners dressed in Foot Locker outfits who were giving out beads. I took their picture and received beads in return. I wore these for the next mile or two before they began to be a distraction, and so I took them off and presented them to a young girl who was watching from the side of the road.
Up until now, my biggest issue was my shorts. The elastic lining had long gone, and I think a combination of my weight loss and me having two GU packets in the back pocket made them very loose. I ended up having to hold the GU packets in my hands to avoid having to constantly adjust it. I peed in a bush at around mile 8 - every port-a-pot seemed to have a line - and motored on.
We went up a very slight incline at around mile 9 and a woman said to me "I guess this is the hill, huh?" - I told her there was another one at mile 24 to look forward to and sped off.
It was mile 11 when the problems started. I'd almost forgotten about the injury altogether but found out very quickly at that point that it had absolutely not forgotten about me. The pain started on the inside, suddenly becoming much sharper, and then the dreaded outside shooting pains started and my leg began to buckle. I tried running through it, but soon I was limping quite badly. At mile 12, with no improvement, I started to accept for the first time that I might not make it. I felt tears begin to accumulate behind my eye, and tried to tell myself that this too would pass.
It didn't.
I somehow managed to get through another three miles before the reality hit me. I walked through a water station and this time, couldn't start running again. My right leg simply had nothing left. I had completed the first half in just over 2 hours, but I knew I had only one chance of making it through the second half and that was to walk. In all the training runs and tune-up races I've done for this thing, from a 1 mile jog to a 20 mile long run, I've never onced stop to walk other than to get a drink, and now, here I was, finally at the race I'd been working to the whole time and I was walking with 11 miles still to go. It was disheartening and disappointing.
Initially I didn't feel too bad. I was limping, but mainly able to keep propelling myself forward, but by about mile 18, which seemed to take an eternity to come, I was badly struggling, my limps becoming more pronounced by the step. I began to fear the overcompensating would soon take its toll on my left leg. A medical tent was set up at this point, and, seeing my discomfort, a volunteer offered me ice, which I gratefully accepted. I sat down for a second, they attached two ice bags to my leg and gave me two tylenol. I told another woman I wanted to get back out there and she said "For sure", in a very certain kind of way, but I knew there was a chance I wouldn't even be able to stand back up, let alone walk another 8 miles to the finish line.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
The Courses
We decided a while back to drive the routes. The website advertised the course as "fun, fast and fantastic" or words to that effect. Yesterday we drove the marathon course, today, the Half, to see if they were telling the truth.
One thing we've noticed about Phoenix and the surrounding area is how wide open it is compared to Overland Park and Kansas City. The trees are usually tall, thin palm trees and there's very little shade anywhere, even in some of the built up areas. I'm loving the weather right now, but I have a feeling it would be too oppressive for me to handle in the summer. KC can be almost as hot as Phoenix in the summer, but it's much easier to find shade, and the heat is at least broken up by a few milder moments.
The marathon course is definitely flat, of that there's no doubt. The only bump I remember seeing was a short slope at around mile 23. It's hardly a hill at all but placed where it is on the course, it could be a little irritating. I wouldn't call the course hugely scenic, but it is kind of pretty in an old-west kind of way, with dusty colored roads and mom and pop businesses interspersed with fast food joints and the occasional residential section. Camelback mountain is in view for a lot of the course, and the last few miles are quite interesting, with the pleasant Art district of Scottsdale, a bridge crossing over the Salt River and a finish in the Sun Devil Stadium parking lot. I loved it.
The Half-Marathon course is just as flat as it's big sister, but takes a much more direct route to the stadium, a good percentage of it all on one road (McDowell). It shares part of the first mile or so with the marathon, but other than that is completely separate. There are a couple of little segments that almost seemed desert like in spots, with dunes and cacti dressing the sides of the roads for good stretches. These were my perhaps favorite areas of this course. It also passes by the Phoenix zoo, and affords a decent view into where the animals might potentially be milling about. There's no doubt it's less varied than the full, but that's probably as it should be. The full-marathoners pay more after all. :-)
The next post will be me telling you whether I succeeded, failed, or landed somewhere in between. That's if I can physically type at that point. What another fine mess I've got myself into.
One thing we've noticed about Phoenix and the surrounding area is how wide open it is compared to Overland Park and Kansas City. The trees are usually tall, thin palm trees and there's very little shade anywhere, even in some of the built up areas. I'm loving the weather right now, but I have a feeling it would be too oppressive for me to handle in the summer. KC can be almost as hot as Phoenix in the summer, but it's much easier to find shade, and the heat is at least broken up by a few milder moments.
The marathon course is definitely flat, of that there's no doubt. The only bump I remember seeing was a short slope at around mile 23. It's hardly a hill at all but placed where it is on the course, it could be a little irritating. I wouldn't call the course hugely scenic, but it is kind of pretty in an old-west kind of way, with dusty colored roads and mom and pop businesses interspersed with fast food joints and the occasional residential section. Camelback mountain is in view for a lot of the course, and the last few miles are quite interesting, with the pleasant Art district of Scottsdale, a bridge crossing over the Salt River and a finish in the Sun Devil Stadium parking lot. I loved it.
The Half-Marathon course is just as flat as it's big sister, but takes a much more direct route to the stadium, a good percentage of it all on one road (McDowell). It shares part of the first mile or so with the marathon, but other than that is completely separate. There are a couple of little segments that almost seemed desert like in spots, with dunes and cacti dressing the sides of the roads for good stretches. These were my perhaps favorite areas of this course. It also passes by the Phoenix zoo, and affords a decent view into where the animals might potentially be milling about. There's no doubt it's less varied than the full, but that's probably as it should be. The full-marathoners pay more after all. :-)
The next post will be me telling you whether I succeeded, failed, or landed somewhere in between. That's if I can physically type at that point. What another fine mess I've got myself into.
The Eve of the Marathon
In about 10 hours, give or take a few minutes, I'll be sweating my first few steps on the Phoenix streets. I'm expecting a painful first mile or two, though I have to say my leg has felt better today than it has in a while, which is encouraging. As long as things loosen up by mile 4 or 5, I'll be happy.
Today went quicker than I expected. Jill and I drove the Half-Marathon route (having done the marathon route yesterday), attended the Scottsdale Artwalk, enjoyed a relaxing swim in the OUTDOOR pool, and ate at the ever-reliable Olive Garden. Finally we came back to the hotel, pinned our numbers on our shirts, attached our tags and laid out tomorrow's gear. So, not much down time, though it wasn't overly taxing physically.
The nerves are well and truly here. I can feel the old ticker going double time already. Sleep might be hard to come by, though I do actually feel quite tired, so I might get lucky. Either way, we'll need to be on the road by about 5am, so it's not like I'm going to get that many hours anyway. To be honest, I'm grateful for the early start. Anything to reduce the tossing, turning and fretting.
Today went quicker than I expected. Jill and I drove the Half-Marathon route (having done the marathon route yesterday), attended the Scottsdale Artwalk, enjoyed a relaxing swim in the OUTDOOR pool, and ate at the ever-reliable Olive Garden. Finally we came back to the hotel, pinned our numbers on our shirts, attached our tags and laid out tomorrow's gear. So, not much down time, though it wasn't overly taxing physically.
The nerves are well and truly here. I can feel the old ticker going double time already. Sleep might be hard to come by, though I do actually feel quite tired, so I might get lucky. Either way, we'll need to be on the road by about 5am, so it's not like I'm going to get that many hours anyway. To be honest, I'm grateful for the early start. Anything to reduce the tossing, turning and fretting.
The Surprise
Jill's inability to keep even the smallest secret is legendary. I find it endearing, personally. It's an almost childlike excitement that leads her to almost burst at the seems with the weight and responsibility of guarding any treasured information.
Therefore I was totally blindsided when she announced last night that she had a surprise, and proceeded to present me with a file folder full of cards and emails from friends, family and the like that she had covertly requested and gathered without my knowledge over the last few weeks. In addition, not only had she managed to keep quiet, but everyone who contributed were similarly silent, a remarkable feat given the range of personalities and ages of those involved. I am usually alert to underground dealings and like to think of myself as having a good nose for this kind of thing, but I was utterly in the dark.
The cards and emails were all good luck wishes and messages, and some were remarkably thoughtful, frequently hilarious and invariably touching. I had just told Jill how I was slightly jealous of the amount of good luck cards and so on that she'd received for her race, which she posted all over the hotel room when we arrived, and then she uncovered this little treasure trove.
Without wishing to be cliched, sometimes I feel I've grown quite cynical and perhaps a little too worldy-wise over the last few years, so when something like this happens, it's hard to even know what to say or do, but it's rare I'm so moved, and, whatever happens tomorrow, I'm a better person for knowing the people I do, and especially for having the partner that I have.
Therefore I was totally blindsided when she announced last night that she had a surprise, and proceeded to present me with a file folder full of cards and emails from friends, family and the like that she had covertly requested and gathered without my knowledge over the last few weeks. In addition, not only had she managed to keep quiet, but everyone who contributed were similarly silent, a remarkable feat given the range of personalities and ages of those involved. I am usually alert to underground dealings and like to think of myself as having a good nose for this kind of thing, but I was utterly in the dark.
The cards and emails were all good luck wishes and messages, and some were remarkably thoughtful, frequently hilarious and invariably touching. I had just told Jill how I was slightly jealous of the amount of good luck cards and so on that she'd received for her race, which she posted all over the hotel room when we arrived, and then she uncovered this little treasure trove.
Without wishing to be cliched, sometimes I feel I've grown quite cynical and perhaps a little too worldy-wise over the last few years, so when something like this happens, it's hard to even know what to say or do, but it's rare I'm so moved, and, whatever happens tomorrow, I'm a better person for knowing the people I do, and especially for having the partner that I have.
The Day Before The Day Before
Breakfast at the hotel consisted of pancakes, bacon, and a discussion over the nationality of the waitress, which we finally agreed was an Eastern European nation of some description, then it was time to head to the Health and Fitness Expo in downtown Phoenix to pick up our numbers and goodie bags.
This was not the "Gobbler Grind Packet Pickup". A huge convention hall was packed with booths, apparel and other merchandise and celebrity guests signing books and giving speeches. I thought that the KC Marathon's expo was a decent size, but this one was easily three times as big, and although I'm sure we went during one of the less busy times (noon on Friday, when the Expo would be running for two solid days until the end of Saturday), the place was hopping.
First things first, we picked up our numbers and timing chips. I liked that the backgrounds are different colors for the marathon and the half. Jill said that was probably because that made me think I was cool and more of a badass for doing the full, and, well, she's probably right. My number had a yellow background, Jill's blue. The chips were actually Chronotrack disposable tags, rather than those plastic Championchips that a lot of races have. So that'll be an extra souvenir when all's said and done. One thing was immediately apparent. There are far, far, far more people doing the Half than the full. There were probably thirty different lines for half marathon packet pickup, and maybe ten for the full. (Stop it, you're a badass, we get it.)
The t-shirts were next, and they were pretty good, again different for the marathon and half - this is the first race I've been to big enough to have two different t-shirts for the different races. Not race shirts; they were 100% cotton, so just a souvenir, but nevertheless, I'd read some comments in the past that they were a bit lame, so either those people were extra-picky or they'd upped the quality this year.
We meandered through the booths, picking up free samples (the freebie of beer was perhaps my favorite of these), and eyeing clothing and shoe. Jill actually ended up buying a very nice pink New Balance shirt she's decided to wear for the race, which she tried on in a booth made out of curtains and velcro.
We passed by a celebrity signing. The Olympic gymnast, Shawn Johnson, even tinier in real life, was dutifully signing for a long line of people, a lot of whom were clearly too young to be marathoners, or even, I'd venture to suggest, half-marathoners.
Finally, we sat in on a Q&A with a panel of experts, including former marathon champions, running legends, and writers Frank Shorter, John 'The Penguin' Bingham and Steve Scott. I was particularly pleased to see John Bingham there, whose column I've found frequently hilarious and often inspirational. At the end of the Q&A Jill and I actually introduced ourselves to him and picked his brain for about 10 minutes or more. He's as pleasant in real life as he seems in his columns and very funny. He gave us tips on shin splints (my topic du jour), marathon recovery and pacing. He's also completed the London Marathon seven times, counting it, with Chicago, as his favorite of all, so was quite interested in the fact that this was my home town.
After, we listened to Bart Yasso, the Runner's World editor, runner, and inventor of the now-famous "Yasso 800s" - an interval training workout that has been used for years as a way of predicting marathon race times. Jill was keen to buy his book, so after the talk, we went to his booth and bought one, having him sign it for us right there. Great stuff.
After the expo, we decided to drive the marathon course. I'll talk more about this - and the Half-Marathon course that we're going to drive today - in another post, but for now, I will say just one word.... "flat".
The phrase "We're not in Kansas any more" resonated time and time again in my head as we headed home (via Dick's Sporting Goods and Ikea, which Jill badgered me into checking out). Not only is Phoenix as different to KC as knives are to jelly, in terms of both terrain, infrastructure and landscaping, but the marathon is clearly big time. The organization, the quality of the goods on sale, the people hired to talk, the sponsors. This ain't your momma's marathon. Well, it ain't the Gobbler Grind, anyway.
I ran a mile on the treadmill, which I documented in the finaly daily log, then another unhealthy dinner, this time at the Cheesecake factory, followed, and we were once again spent. I've been happy to get two good nights of sleep, because I have a feeling tonight won't be as smooth. I woke up nervous and part of the reason I'm blogging now, before Jill is even awake, is so I can get rid of some of that energy. This might be one of the longest days of my life. :-)
This was not the "Gobbler Grind Packet Pickup". A huge convention hall was packed with booths, apparel and other merchandise and celebrity guests signing books and giving speeches. I thought that the KC Marathon's expo was a decent size, but this one was easily three times as big, and although I'm sure we went during one of the less busy times (noon on Friday, when the Expo would be running for two solid days until the end of Saturday), the place was hopping.
First things first, we picked up our numbers and timing chips. I liked that the backgrounds are different colors for the marathon and the half. Jill said that was probably because that made me think I was cool and more of a badass for doing the full, and, well, she's probably right. My number had a yellow background, Jill's blue. The chips were actually Chronotrack disposable tags, rather than those plastic Championchips that a lot of races have. So that'll be an extra souvenir when all's said and done. One thing was immediately apparent. There are far, far, far more people doing the Half than the full. There were probably thirty different lines for half marathon packet pickup, and maybe ten for the full. (Stop it, you're a badass, we get it.)
The t-shirts were next, and they were pretty good, again different for the marathon and half - this is the first race I've been to big enough to have two different t-shirts for the different races. Not race shirts; they were 100% cotton, so just a souvenir, but nevertheless, I'd read some comments in the past that they were a bit lame, so either those people were extra-picky or they'd upped the quality this year.
We meandered through the booths, picking up free samples (the freebie of beer was perhaps my favorite of these), and eyeing clothing and shoe. Jill actually ended up buying a very nice pink New Balance shirt she's decided to wear for the race, which she tried on in a booth made out of curtains and velcro.
We passed by a celebrity signing. The Olympic gymnast, Shawn Johnson, even tinier in real life, was dutifully signing for a long line of people, a lot of whom were clearly too young to be marathoners, or even, I'd venture to suggest, half-marathoners.
Finally, we sat in on a Q&A with a panel of experts, including former marathon champions, running legends, and writers Frank Shorter, John 'The Penguin' Bingham and Steve Scott. I was particularly pleased to see John Bingham there, whose column I've found frequently hilarious and often inspirational. At the end of the Q&A Jill and I actually introduced ourselves to him and picked his brain for about 10 minutes or more. He's as pleasant in real life as he seems in his columns and very funny. He gave us tips on shin splints (my topic du jour), marathon recovery and pacing. He's also completed the London Marathon seven times, counting it, with Chicago, as his favorite of all, so was quite interested in the fact that this was my home town.
After, we listened to Bart Yasso, the Runner's World editor, runner, and inventor of the now-famous "Yasso 800s" - an interval training workout that has been used for years as a way of predicting marathon race times. Jill was keen to buy his book, so after the talk, we went to his booth and bought one, having him sign it for us right there. Great stuff.
After the expo, we decided to drive the marathon course. I'll talk more about this - and the Half-Marathon course that we're going to drive today - in another post, but for now, I will say just one word.... "flat".
The phrase "We're not in Kansas any more" resonated time and time again in my head as we headed home (via Dick's Sporting Goods and Ikea, which Jill badgered me into checking out). Not only is Phoenix as different to KC as knives are to jelly, in terms of both terrain, infrastructure and landscaping, but the marathon is clearly big time. The organization, the quality of the goods on sale, the people hired to talk, the sponsors. This ain't your momma's marathon. Well, it ain't the Gobbler Grind, anyway.
I ran a mile on the treadmill, which I documented in the finaly daily log, then another unhealthy dinner, this time at the Cheesecake factory, followed, and we were once again spent. I've been happy to get two good nights of sleep, because I have a feeling tonight won't be as smooth. I woke up nervous and part of the reason I'm blogging now, before Jill is even awake, is so I can get rid of some of that energy. This might be one of the longest days of my life. :-)
The Journey
I'm posting this a couple of days after the actual events described. Sue me, it's hard to motivate myself to write a blog while I'm on a quasi-vacation. Be grateful you're getting one at all.
We left the house at around 7:15am into a -2 degree Kansas City day and dropped Olive off at Jill's place where she would later be picked up by the dogsitter (Jill's mom), Meadow having been safely delivered to my pals the night before. A drive to the airpot and economy parking followed which allowed us another delightful opportunity to stand outside in sub-zero temperatures while we waited for a shuttle to the airport.
Did I ever tell you I hate to fly? It's an irrational fear of course. I'm more likely to die driving a car or, yes, running a marathon than I am in a plane crash, but naturally that fact is no help whatsoever when a bout of turbulence decides to pepper the plane. Oh, I'll do it. I'm not paralyzed by it. I don't break out in a cold sweat and hyperventilate, but I do waste a proportionally greater number of my allotted total of heart beats inside those tin tubes.
Despite my massive build up, in an equally vast anticlimax, the flights were both pretty smooth (still hated them), and I was pleasantly surprised that although we went through the notoriously choppy skies around the Denver area, where we connected, today's air was calm and virtually turb-free. We arrived in Phoenix about 40 minutes late, still dressed in jackets and scarves, and headed to the rental car shuttle where we tasted open Arizona air for the first time, and led to the first 3-4 hours of our stay being dominated almost entirely by weather-related conversation. It's remarkable to me as a native Brit used to pretty similar conditions throughout the whole country, that one place can be so huge as to be able to wake up in negative temperatures in one area, and then step off a plane to 70 degree temperatures in another.
The drive to the hotel, located in the suburb of Chandler, was a breeze and we arrived, starving hungry, at around 5ish. A quick trip to PF Chang's later, our appetites satiated, and we were back in the hotel watching a news story about - would you believe it? - a plane crash. "Miracle in the Hudson" it was already being dubbed. A heroic Captain, both his engines taken out by, of all things, geese, managed to land his plane in the Hudson river in New York, saving every single one of the crew and passengers, almost all of whome escaped with either minor injuries or no injury at all. It's funny how news stories can act as bookmarks to an event in your own life sometimes. I will always associate this event, and Captain Chesley "Sully" Sullenberger, with my first marathon. I'm just pleased it was a happy ending. I have no time for bad omens at this stage.
I know. Me, me, me. Right?
We left the house at around 7:15am into a -2 degree Kansas City day and dropped Olive off at Jill's place where she would later be picked up by the dogsitter (Jill's mom), Meadow having been safely delivered to my pals the night before. A drive to the airpot and economy parking followed which allowed us another delightful opportunity to stand outside in sub-zero temperatures while we waited for a shuttle to the airport.
Did I ever tell you I hate to fly? It's an irrational fear of course. I'm more likely to die driving a car or, yes, running a marathon than I am in a plane crash, but naturally that fact is no help whatsoever when a bout of turbulence decides to pepper the plane. Oh, I'll do it. I'm not paralyzed by it. I don't break out in a cold sweat and hyperventilate, but I do waste a proportionally greater number of my allotted total of heart beats inside those tin tubes.
Despite my massive build up, in an equally vast anticlimax, the flights were both pretty smooth (still hated them), and I was pleasantly surprised that although we went through the notoriously choppy skies around the Denver area, where we connected, today's air was calm and virtually turb-free. We arrived in Phoenix about 40 minutes late, still dressed in jackets and scarves, and headed to the rental car shuttle where we tasted open Arizona air for the first time, and led to the first 3-4 hours of our stay being dominated almost entirely by weather-related conversation. It's remarkable to me as a native Brit used to pretty similar conditions throughout the whole country, that one place can be so huge as to be able to wake up in negative temperatures in one area, and then step off a plane to 70 degree temperatures in another.
The drive to the hotel, located in the suburb of Chandler, was a breeze and we arrived, starving hungry, at around 5ish. A quick trip to PF Chang's later, our appetites satiated, and we were back in the hotel watching a news story about - would you believe it? - a plane crash. "Miracle in the Hudson" it was already being dubbed. A heroic Captain, both his engines taken out by, of all things, geese, managed to land his plane in the Hudson river in New York, saving every single one of the crew and passengers, almost all of whome escaped with either minor injuries or no injury at all. It's funny how news stories can act as bookmarks to an event in your own life sometimes. I will always associate this event, and Captain Chesley "Sully" Sullenberger, with my first marathon. I'm just pleased it was a happy ending. I have no time for bad omens at this stage.
I know. Me, me, me. Right?
The Final Daily Log 1/16/09
Distance: 1.00 miles
Time: 10:00
Pace: 10:00/mile
Weight: 193lbs
Terrain: Treadmill, 0% incline
Temperature: Indoors
Gear: Adidas Climacool Shirt, Adidas Running Shorts, Nike Air Zoom Vomero Shoes
Hydration: None
Fuel: None
Medical: Right Shin
Recovery: Stretches
Shoe Mile Count: 302.55 miles
Days until Marathon: 1
I actually ran last night, but was too tired to post then, plus I wanted "Days Until Marathon" to read "1" :-)
What can I say? My leg still hurts, and will hurt on race day. Was it bearable? Yes. Was it unpleasant? Slightly, but somewhat improved over the other day, though one mile isn't really a long enough distance to truly test it. Of course, I didn't want to go further, obviously, and risk exacerbating it, so this last little jog would have to suffice as a measuring stick.
I do wonder if part of it is mental. Is it my mind making it worse than it is? Suddenly I am feeling a lot of pressure to make this a success, and that has to be adding to the feeling that not all is as it should be. I really just want to get out there, get to mile 5, and start feeling good. It certainly feels real enough, but I'm sure all "phantom pains" do.
I am going to wear the old shoes on race day. They feel fine, and I trust them.
So, my training is complete, and I've even driven the route (see subsequent post). There's one thing left to do and one thing only. Run fatboy, run.
Time: 10:00
Pace: 10:00/mile
Weight: 193lbs
Terrain: Treadmill, 0% incline
Temperature: Indoors
Gear: Adidas Climacool Shirt, Adidas Running Shorts, Nike Air Zoom Vomero Shoes
Hydration: None
Fuel: None
Medical: Right Shin
Recovery: Stretches
Shoe Mile Count: 302.55 miles
Days until Marathon: 1
I actually ran last night, but was too tired to post then, plus I wanted "Days Until Marathon" to read "1" :-)
What can I say? My leg still hurts, and will hurt on race day. Was it bearable? Yes. Was it unpleasant? Slightly, but somewhat improved over the other day, though one mile isn't really a long enough distance to truly test it. Of course, I didn't want to go further, obviously, and risk exacerbating it, so this last little jog would have to suffice as a measuring stick.
I do wonder if part of it is mental. Is it my mind making it worse than it is? Suddenly I am feeling a lot of pressure to make this a success, and that has to be adding to the feeling that not all is as it should be. I really just want to get out there, get to mile 5, and start feeling good. It certainly feels real enough, but I'm sure all "phantom pains" do.
I am going to wear the old shoes on race day. They feel fine, and I trust them.
So, my training is complete, and I've even driven the route (see subsequent post). There's one thing left to do and one thing only. Run fatboy, run.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
The Final Total
Barring any surprise last-minute donations, the final total is in for the fundraising. My friends and family came through and we've managed to raise $1,250 for cancer research; more than double the original target. I might do another marathon one day, but I will never do another "first marathon", however it goes, so I really felt it was key to capitalize on the uniqueness of the event and make it about more than just a personal indulgence. I'll be able to look back with pride that I wasn't the only one to benefit from my race. If I fail, that fact will be of great comfort to me as I lick - or maybe ice - my wounds. If I succeed, the combination of the realization of a dream I've had since childhood and the fact that I raised a significant sum of money for something truly worthwhile will surely rank as one of my life's finest experiences.
The Night Before
The bags are packed. The errands are done. The documents are printed.
Tomorrow, I will fly to warmer climes with the purpose of running the 6th annual Rock n' Roll Arizona marathon. It was September when I came up with the idea, and I have to admit that at that time, I thought the chances of me actually lining up race day were no better than 50-50 given my history of trying (and failing) this task. Only four days to go now, and as of this moment I'm still fully intending being there. Yes, I'm hobbled, but all in all I should probably count my blessings I've made it this far and stop whining.
That being said, my leg was still very sore this morning, though it improved considerably as the day went on. I read that new injuries are not uncommon during the taper, because of how the body begins to heal from the weeks of building mileage. Maybe I'm grasping at straws believing that, but I'll take what I can get at this point. I'm not thrilled about the timing of this most recent roadblock, obviously, but am hopeful that if I rest up and am sensible about the remaining time that I will be able to muscle my way around come Sunday. It might not be pretty, but I'm not pretty to begin with, so who cares, right?
The flight leaves KC at 10:17am tomorrow and, after a brief stop in Denver, I'll arrive in Phoenix at around 2pm local time. The plan is to just head for the hotel, take it easy and try to get some sleep. It might not be glamorous, but I'm not glamorous to begin with, so.... well, you know.
SEE YOU IN ARIZONA!!
Tomorrow, I will fly to warmer climes with the purpose of running the 6th annual Rock n' Roll Arizona marathon. It was September when I came up with the idea, and I have to admit that at that time, I thought the chances of me actually lining up race day were no better than 50-50 given my history of trying (and failing) this task. Only four days to go now, and as of this moment I'm still fully intending being there. Yes, I'm hobbled, but all in all I should probably count my blessings I've made it this far and stop whining.
That being said, my leg was still very sore this morning, though it improved considerably as the day went on. I read that new injuries are not uncommon during the taper, because of how the body begins to heal from the weeks of building mileage. Maybe I'm grasping at straws believing that, but I'll take what I can get at this point. I'm not thrilled about the timing of this most recent roadblock, obviously, but am hopeful that if I rest up and am sensible about the remaining time that I will be able to muscle my way around come Sunday. It might not be pretty, but I'm not pretty to begin with, so who cares, right?
The flight leaves KC at 10:17am tomorrow and, after a brief stop in Denver, I'll arrive in Phoenix at around 2pm local time. The plan is to just head for the hotel, take it easy and try to get some sleep. It might not be glamorous, but I'm not glamorous to begin with, so.... well, you know.
SEE YOU IN ARIZONA!!
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
The Daily Log 1/13/09
Distance: 4.10 miles
Time: 37:20
Pace: 9:05/mile
Weight: 193lbs
Terrain: Rolling
Temperature: Very Cold
Gear: Long-Sleeved Gobbler Grind Tech Shirt, Adidas Running Fleece, Under Armour Running Hoodie, Adidas Long Training Pants over Under Armour Compression Pants, Reebok Stocking Cap, iPod Shuffle, Nike Air Zoom Vomero Shoes
Hydration: None
Fuel: None
Medical: Right Shin
Recovery: Stretches, ice, Aleve
Shoe Mile Count: 301.55 miles
Days until Marathon: 5
Not great. My shin hurt pretty much the whole way through, which in itself was frustrating, but the pain also seemed to transfer to the other side of my leg on the high calf. My guess is it's all related. While the pain was an annoyance, what was more unsettling was the fact that the anterior pain made my leg feel very weak, like I had no power to push off on my steps. Yikes!
Compounding the misery was the fact that it was extremely cold, which meant I had to wear my rather heavy hoodie the whole way through. That always makes for a heavy run, and I even one-upped that by selecting a new route, though it was over somewhat familiar streets. Idiotic probably, though I don't really think it was the route that was to blame for my woes.
The weather and terrain of course shouldn't be a barrier to success on Sunday. Forecasts are exactly as the race directors have predicted. Starting in the 40s, finishing in the mid to high 60s, and over a pancake flat course to boot. So the only thing I really have to worry about is this annoying injury. Yes, I've probably only got myself to blame, but I mean, come on, it couldn't have waited a week to kick in?
Other notes: Surprisingly, given my lack of leg energy, my pace was pretty respectable, probably close to what I'm planning on running on race day. Also, I went back to the old shoes today and they felt pretty good, so I'm leaning towards going with those. That being said, I am probably going to take both pairs and decide when I'm out there which to use based on how good (or not) my shin feels. The better it is, the more likely I'll go with the old ones. If it still feels really weak, I might run in the new ones and risk some foot pain to give me some extra cushioning.
Given today's struggles, I've decided to skip tomorrow's 3 mile jog and might not even run again before Sunday, though I'd like very much to at least do a mile or two on Friday or Saturday so that I can test my leg and assess the damage.
Last minute complications aside, nothing short of a tsunami is likely to keep me from lining up on Sunday, and unless I just can't even stand up, I'll run through whatever pain comes my way, even if I have to go slower than I'm hoping. I've told everyone I'm doing this now, so if I fail, everyone will know, and that's more of a fear than any injury.
Please visit my 'Make Cures Happen' fundraising page and make a donation for research into leukemia, lymphoma and myeloma. Also, check out my blog entry for more.
Time: 37:20
Pace: 9:05/mile
Weight: 193lbs
Terrain: Rolling
Temperature: Very Cold
Gear: Long-Sleeved Gobbler Grind Tech Shirt, Adidas Running Fleece, Under Armour Running Hoodie, Adidas Long Training Pants over Under Armour Compression Pants, Reebok Stocking Cap, iPod Shuffle, Nike Air Zoom Vomero Shoes
Hydration: None
Fuel: None
Medical: Right Shin
Recovery: Stretches, ice, Aleve
Shoe Mile Count: 301.55 miles
Days until Marathon: 5
Not great. My shin hurt pretty much the whole way through, which in itself was frustrating, but the pain also seemed to transfer to the other side of my leg on the high calf. My guess is it's all related. While the pain was an annoyance, what was more unsettling was the fact that the anterior pain made my leg feel very weak, like I had no power to push off on my steps. Yikes!
Compounding the misery was the fact that it was extremely cold, which meant I had to wear my rather heavy hoodie the whole way through. That always makes for a heavy run, and I even one-upped that by selecting a new route, though it was over somewhat familiar streets. Idiotic probably, though I don't really think it was the route that was to blame for my woes.
The weather and terrain of course shouldn't be a barrier to success on Sunday. Forecasts are exactly as the race directors have predicted. Starting in the 40s, finishing in the mid to high 60s, and over a pancake flat course to boot. So the only thing I really have to worry about is this annoying injury. Yes, I've probably only got myself to blame, but I mean, come on, it couldn't have waited a week to kick in?
Other notes: Surprisingly, given my lack of leg energy, my pace was pretty respectable, probably close to what I'm planning on running on race day. Also, I went back to the old shoes today and they felt pretty good, so I'm leaning towards going with those. That being said, I am probably going to take both pairs and decide when I'm out there which to use based on how good (or not) my shin feels. The better it is, the more likely I'll go with the old ones. If it still feels really weak, I might run in the new ones and risk some foot pain to give me some extra cushioning.
Given today's struggles, I've decided to skip tomorrow's 3 mile jog and might not even run again before Sunday, though I'd like very much to at least do a mile or two on Friday or Saturday so that I can test my leg and assess the damage.
Last minute complications aside, nothing short of a tsunami is likely to keep me from lining up on Sunday, and unless I just can't even stand up, I'll run through whatever pain comes my way, even if I have to go slower than I'm hoping. I've told everyone I'm doing this now, so if I fail, everyone will know, and that's more of a fear than any injury.
Please visit my 'Make Cures Happen' fundraising page and make a donation for research into leukemia, lymphoma and myeloma. Also, check out my blog entry for more.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
The Daily Log 1/11/09
Distance: 8.39 miles
Time: 1:19:54
Pace: 9:31/mile
Weight: 193lbs
Terrain: Gently rolling first half, moderate up and down second half
Temperature: Colder as the run went on
Gear: Short-sleeved Adidas Climacool Shirt, Nike running shorts, Road Runner Running Cap, iPod Shuffle, Nike Air Zoom Vomero Shoes
Hydration: Water
Fuel: None
Medical: Right Shin
Recovery: Stretches, ice, Aleve
Shoe Mile Count: 18.84 miles
Days until Marathon: 7
One week from now, whether I succeed or fail, my journey will be over. I might have mentioned that I've already targeted my next run - a half-marathon in late March in a neighboring town - but I must admit, I am a bit worried that, having been at this for more than four months now, I will feel somehow empty like something I've been living with has been taken from me. The bigger fear is that this feeling will cause me to stop running and revert back to my lazy ways, undoing the good work I've done to this point. Hopefully not, but still, it's like anything. You get used to it, and whether it's hard or not, you miss it when it's gone.
That being said, I'm still a week away, and today marked the last significant run. Between now and the race, if all runs go as scheduled, I'll run 4 on Tuesday, 3 on Wednesday, and then a little 2 miler on Friday in Arizona. In fact, I could probably skip all three of these and still feel fine about the work put in so far to line up on Sunday. Knowing my history, that's unlikely, but still... my point is that I was keen to get this run in because I knew it was probably the last time I would run a long enough distance to a) test my shin and b) test my new shoes.
The first half I ran with Jill at a slow pace (10:40ish per mile), then I sped up in increasingly cold conditions (considering what I was wearing) to an 8:15 per mile pace. My shin was mostly fine; probably slightly better than Friday even, though it was quite sore before I set out. I don't foresee this going away, but neither do I see it being a particular issue on race day, either as something that might stop me from competing, nor even as something that will slow me down to any significant degree.
As for the shoes, I'm still a bit torn. The heels feel great, but I have always bounced a little when I run. The balls of my feet are where I "spring" and tend to correspond with the parts of the shoes that wear down first. As I'm used to "worn down" with the old ones, the new ones being built up feel like they are digging in. My strategy is therefore this... on Tuesday I will run my 4 miler in the old shoes. If they feel more comfortable, I'm sticking with them through race day. If not, I'll probably take my chances with the new ones.
While we're on last minute dilemmas, this weekend's NFL playoffs transpired in such a way that the usually beleagered Arizona Cardinals will host the NFC Championship game the very same day I'll be running. I don't know anything about Phoenix, where the stadium is, or how everyone gets there, but it would be a novel twist if I spent longer driving back to the hotel because of football traffic than I do running the race.
Am I a glass is half-empty kind of guy all of a sudden?
Please visit my 'Make Cures Happen' fundraising page and make a donation for research into leukemia, lymphoma and myeloma. Also, check out my blog entry for more.
Time: 1:19:54
Pace: 9:31/mile
Weight: 193lbs
Terrain: Gently rolling first half, moderate up and down second half
Temperature: Colder as the run went on
Gear: Short-sleeved Adidas Climacool Shirt, Nike running shorts, Road Runner Running Cap, iPod Shuffle, Nike Air Zoom Vomero Shoes
Hydration: Water
Fuel: None
Medical: Right Shin
Recovery: Stretches, ice, Aleve
Shoe Mile Count: 18.84 miles
Days until Marathon: 7
One week from now, whether I succeed or fail, my journey will be over. I might have mentioned that I've already targeted my next run - a half-marathon in late March in a neighboring town - but I must admit, I am a bit worried that, having been at this for more than four months now, I will feel somehow empty like something I've been living with has been taken from me. The bigger fear is that this feeling will cause me to stop running and revert back to my lazy ways, undoing the good work I've done to this point. Hopefully not, but still, it's like anything. You get used to it, and whether it's hard or not, you miss it when it's gone.
That being said, I'm still a week away, and today marked the last significant run. Between now and the race, if all runs go as scheduled, I'll run 4 on Tuesday, 3 on Wednesday, and then a little 2 miler on Friday in Arizona. In fact, I could probably skip all three of these and still feel fine about the work put in so far to line up on Sunday. Knowing my history, that's unlikely, but still... my point is that I was keen to get this run in because I knew it was probably the last time I would run a long enough distance to a) test my shin and b) test my new shoes.
The first half I ran with Jill at a slow pace (10:40ish per mile), then I sped up in increasingly cold conditions (considering what I was wearing) to an 8:15 per mile pace. My shin was mostly fine; probably slightly better than Friday even, though it was quite sore before I set out. I don't foresee this going away, but neither do I see it being a particular issue on race day, either as something that might stop me from competing, nor even as something that will slow me down to any significant degree.
As for the shoes, I'm still a bit torn. The heels feel great, but I have always bounced a little when I run. The balls of my feet are where I "spring" and tend to correspond with the parts of the shoes that wear down first. As I'm used to "worn down" with the old ones, the new ones being built up feel like they are digging in. My strategy is therefore this... on Tuesday I will run my 4 miler in the old shoes. If they feel more comfortable, I'm sticking with them through race day. If not, I'll probably take my chances with the new ones.
While we're on last minute dilemmas, this weekend's NFL playoffs transpired in such a way that the usually beleagered Arizona Cardinals will host the NFC Championship game the very same day I'll be running. I don't know anything about Phoenix, where the stadium is, or how everyone gets there, but it would be a novel twist if I spent longer driving back to the hotel because of football traffic than I do running the race.
Am I a glass is half-empty kind of guy all of a sudden?
Please visit my 'Make Cures Happen' fundraising page and make a donation for research into leukemia, lymphoma and myeloma. Also, check out my blog entry for more.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
The Intolerable Odor
Mapmyrun.com has added a new feature to its training log application. In addition to being able to register the quality and effort level of your workout, you are now able to track your "odor level". I have to admit, this did encourage the corners of my mouth to set a northerly heading. Is this something people are keen to look back on and reminisce about? Ah yes... that was the day I smelled like a dead cat. Ah, that was before I'd discovered this thing the natives call deodorant.
Maybe I shouldn't kid. These websites listen to their subscribers, so possibly they'd been getting a lot of requests for ming-tracking. I don't know. I'm not saying I smell like a pine forest after a heavy rain when I come in from a hard seven miler, but I have this new-fangled contraption called a "shower" that seems to remedy the issue. Perhaps I'm missing something, or unaware of some odorific condition that afflicts people only when they run.
The options you can select for your level of poopypantsia ranges from "no odor" to "intolerable". Full disclosure: there have been times on a run where I've been aware of being less than lemony fresh, but intolerable? Can you really picture someone throwing up their hands half way through their run and yelling "That's IT. I can't take one more step. The smell is simply intolerable." I want to know who's marking their run odor this way. Are they taking a dip in a bath of rotten milk before they set out? Do they wrestle hogs? Clean Johnny-on-the-Spots?
Anyway, you can probably tell I'm a bit restless. Only 8 days left, and I suspect this week will be a slow one. My odor and me will be back on the roads tomorrow, but don't be surprised if I post again before then. You've been warned.
Please visit my 'Make Cures Happen' fundraising page and make a donation for research into leukemia, lymphoma and myeloma. Also, check out my blog entry for more.
Maybe I shouldn't kid. These websites listen to their subscribers, so possibly they'd been getting a lot of requests for ming-tracking. I don't know. I'm not saying I smell like a pine forest after a heavy rain when I come in from a hard seven miler, but I have this new-fangled contraption called a "shower" that seems to remedy the issue. Perhaps I'm missing something, or unaware of some odorific condition that afflicts people only when they run.
The options you can select for your level of poopypantsia ranges from "no odor" to "intolerable". Full disclosure: there have been times on a run where I've been aware of being less than lemony fresh, but intolerable? Can you really picture someone throwing up their hands half way through their run and yelling "That's IT. I can't take one more step. The smell is simply intolerable." I want to know who's marking their run odor this way. Are they taking a dip in a bath of rotten milk before they set out? Do they wrestle hogs? Clean Johnny-on-the-Spots?
Anyway, you can probably tell I'm a bit restless. Only 8 days left, and I suspect this week will be a slow one. My odor and me will be back on the roads tomorrow, but don't be surprised if I post again before then. You've been warned.
Please visit my 'Make Cures Happen' fundraising page and make a donation for research into leukemia, lymphoma and myeloma. Also, check out my blog entry for more.
Friday, January 9, 2009
The Daily Log 1/9/09
Distance: 4.24 miles
Time: 42:05
Pace: 9:55/mile
Weight: 193lbs
Terrain: Gently up and down
Temperature: Warm; intermittently breezy
Gear: Hospital Hill Tech Shirt, Adidas running shorts, Gobbler Grind Running Cap, iPod Shuffle, Nike Air Zoom Vomero Shoes
Hydration: None
Fuel: None
Medical: Right Shin
Recovery: Stretches, ice, Aleve
Shoe Mile Count: 10.45 miles
Days until Marathon: 9
I've talked on and off about how the right shin has been the devil I know, and from my tone, I'm sure you've taken that to mean that it doesn't concern me as much as possibly it should. I said in the last long that barring a broken leg I'm doing this race, and that still holds, but it's somewhat frustrating that I'm having this pain this late in the day after many weeks of next to none.
All that being whined_I mean said, despite the fact that my shin has been rather sore all week, I made a last minute decision to head out onto the roads and log a few more miles on the new shoes. Partly this was because the alternative was the exercise bike, which has been great for warming up for my runs, but is one of the most boring contraptions known to man when it's the centerpiece of a cardio workout. Partly this was because it was in the mid-50s outside - it's been an extraordinarily mild January so far - and I have a hard time resisting short-sleeved shirt and shorts weather. Partly it was simply because I'm stubborn.
So was it a bad decision? Well, early signs are that no, it wasn't. I was conscious of the injury throughout, but I can't honestly say it was painful. I ran slow, careful mile loops figuring I could easily stop at any time and still be able to tell exactly how far I'd run, and as the pain never escalated, I managed to complete all 4 scheduled miles. I finished a few hours ago and if anything my leg feels a little better now than it did this morning, but this could be the ice and Aleve kicking in.
I really hope that everything holds up for the planned 8 miler on Sunday evening. While it's probably not imperative that I complete it in terms of fitness, it will be an important gauge of how the new shoes are breaking in, and if I don't feel entirely confident, I'm going to switch back to the old ones for the last week of short runs and the race.
Less than a week till my Arizona adventure begins, and only 9 days until the race. It almost looks like a misprint to me to read that. Seems like only yesterday it was still 80-something days away. Doesn't time fly when you're having fun?
Please visit my 'Make Cures Happen' fundraising page and make a donation for research into leukemia, lymphoma and myeloma. Also, check out my blog entry for more.
Time: 42:05
Pace: 9:55/mile
Weight: 193lbs
Terrain: Gently up and down
Temperature: Warm; intermittently breezy
Gear: Hospital Hill Tech Shirt, Adidas running shorts, Gobbler Grind Running Cap, iPod Shuffle, Nike Air Zoom Vomero Shoes
Hydration: None
Fuel: None
Medical: Right Shin
Recovery: Stretches, ice, Aleve
Shoe Mile Count: 10.45 miles
Days until Marathon: 9
I've talked on and off about how the right shin has been the devil I know, and from my tone, I'm sure you've taken that to mean that it doesn't concern me as much as possibly it should. I said in the last long that barring a broken leg I'm doing this race, and that still holds, but it's somewhat frustrating that I'm having this pain this late in the day after many weeks of next to none.
All that being whined_I mean said, despite the fact that my shin has been rather sore all week, I made a last minute decision to head out onto the roads and log a few more miles on the new shoes. Partly this was because the alternative was the exercise bike, which has been great for warming up for my runs, but is one of the most boring contraptions known to man when it's the centerpiece of a cardio workout. Partly this was because it was in the mid-50s outside - it's been an extraordinarily mild January so far - and I have a hard time resisting short-sleeved shirt and shorts weather. Partly it was simply because I'm stubborn.
So was it a bad decision? Well, early signs are that no, it wasn't. I was conscious of the injury throughout, but I can't honestly say it was painful. I ran slow, careful mile loops figuring I could easily stop at any time and still be able to tell exactly how far I'd run, and as the pain never escalated, I managed to complete all 4 scheduled miles. I finished a few hours ago and if anything my leg feels a little better now than it did this morning, but this could be the ice and Aleve kicking in.
I really hope that everything holds up for the planned 8 miler on Sunday evening. While it's probably not imperative that I complete it in terms of fitness, it will be an important gauge of how the new shoes are breaking in, and if I don't feel entirely confident, I'm going to switch back to the old ones for the last week of short runs and the race.
Less than a week till my Arizona adventure begins, and only 9 days until the race. It almost looks like a misprint to me to read that. Seems like only yesterday it was still 80-something days away. Doesn't time fly when you're having fun?
Please visit my 'Make Cures Happen' fundraising page and make a donation for research into leukemia, lymphoma and myeloma. Also, check out my blog entry for more.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
The Daily Log 1/7/09
Distance: 6.21 miles
Time: 57:47
Pace: 9:18/mile
Weight: 194lbs
Terrain: Rolling Hills
Temperature: Cold and calm
Gear: Long-Sleeved Gobbler Grind Shirt, Adidas running fleece, Adidas long training pants over Adidas running shorts, K-State Stocking Cap, iPod Shuffle, Nike Air Zoom Vomero Shoes
Hydration: None
Fuel: None
Medical: Shins
Recovery: Stretches, ice, Aleve
Shoe Mile Count: 6.21 miles
Days until Marathon: 11
As you can see from the shoe mile count, I stepped up and bought a new pair last night. I figured even if I could get by without them until the marathon I'd need them soon after anyway, so might as well see if they'll do me any good right now. The verdict? Well, it's not in yet. There's no doubt they felt softer, and my shins - which were sore again - appreciated it. On the other hand, my feet, particularly around the ball on the left foot, were in a certain amount of discomfort. I will run in these again tomorrow (or Friday) and on my 8 mile run at the weekend. If they don't feel a bit more broken in after that, I'm going to switch back to the old ones for the last couple of runs and the race. It's possible I left it too late to change, but no big deal if so. The old ones are still serviceable and it'll keep at least a few extra miles off them by cycling in the others.
My shins were sore for good portions of this run, particularly the right one, and were it earlier on in the training cycle I might be more concerned. Thing is though, at this point, barring a broken leg, I'm doing this race. I've worked too hard to give up now because of some fairly mild shin splints. So although it was, like yesterday, a tad uncomfortable, the injury didn't concern me overly.
I did however feel very tired on this run, and even a little burned out. This could be just a hang over from Sunday's long run (and the 20 miler the week before), along with perhaps not hydrating as well as I should have, and even wearing clothes that were a little warm for the conditions, so I'm trying not to read too much into the ennui. Still, there's a certain amount of relief that the race is now just around the corner. I'm ready for this to be done. Sure, I'll keep running (I hope), and do other races, maybe even another marathon one day, but at this moment, I'm feeling the mental and physical grind.
Please visit my 'Make Cures Happen' fundraising page and make a donation for research into leukemia, lymphoma and myeloma. Also, check out my blog entry for more.
Time: 57:47
Pace: 9:18/mile
Weight: 194lbs
Terrain: Rolling Hills
Temperature: Cold and calm
Gear: Long-Sleeved Gobbler Grind Shirt, Adidas running fleece, Adidas long training pants over Adidas running shorts, K-State Stocking Cap, iPod Shuffle, Nike Air Zoom Vomero Shoes
Hydration: None
Fuel: None
Medical: Shins
Recovery: Stretches, ice, Aleve
Shoe Mile Count: 6.21 miles
Days until Marathon: 11
As you can see from the shoe mile count, I stepped up and bought a new pair last night. I figured even if I could get by without them until the marathon I'd need them soon after anyway, so might as well see if they'll do me any good right now. The verdict? Well, it's not in yet. There's no doubt they felt softer, and my shins - which were sore again - appreciated it. On the other hand, my feet, particularly around the ball on the left foot, were in a certain amount of discomfort. I will run in these again tomorrow (or Friday) and on my 8 mile run at the weekend. If they don't feel a bit more broken in after that, I'm going to switch back to the old ones for the last couple of runs and the race. It's possible I left it too late to change, but no big deal if so. The old ones are still serviceable and it'll keep at least a few extra miles off them by cycling in the others.
My shins were sore for good portions of this run, particularly the right one, and were it earlier on in the training cycle I might be more concerned. Thing is though, at this point, barring a broken leg, I'm doing this race. I've worked too hard to give up now because of some fairly mild shin splints. So although it was, like yesterday, a tad uncomfortable, the injury didn't concern me overly.
I did however feel very tired on this run, and even a little burned out. This could be just a hang over from Sunday's long run (and the 20 miler the week before), along with perhaps not hydrating as well as I should have, and even wearing clothes that were a little warm for the conditions, so I'm trying not to read too much into the ennui. Still, there's a certain amount of relief that the race is now just around the corner. I'm ready for this to be done. Sure, I'll keep running (I hope), and do other races, maybe even another marathon one day, but at this moment, I'm feeling the mental and physical grind.
Please visit my 'Make Cures Happen' fundraising page and make a donation for research into leukemia, lymphoma and myeloma. Also, check out my blog entry for more.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
The Daily Log 1/6/09
Distance: 4.04 miles
Time: 35:48
Pace: 8:52/mile
Weight: 194lbs
Terrain: Rolling Hills
Temperature: Cold and calm
Gear: Long-Sleeved Adidas Climacool Shirt, Adidas long training pants over Nike running shorts, Reebok Stocking Cap, iPod Shuffle, Nike Air Zoom Vomero Shoes
Hydration: None
Fuel: None
Medical: Shins
Recovery: Stretches, ice, Aleve
Shoe Mile Count: 297.45 miles
Days until Marathon: 12
After two days of rest, I had a bit of cabin fever. Yesterday was a bad day, with Meadow figuring out how to escape from the back yard. Might not sound like a big deal, but she has the energy of a nuclear power plant, so the yard had been a life saver; now I need to figure out a way to keep her in it. In addition, my work computer crashed which obviously slowed me down work-wise too, so it was rather stressful all around.
My point in sharing these apparently trivial events with you is that I've realized how much running balances me out. I'm usually more mentally relaxed the days that I run, and the longer it's been since the last one, the more tightly wound I feel, so I was really looking forward to logging a few miles today.
All that being said, much as I was grateful to be back out there, this wasn't the most comfortable run. My legs felt worn down, and both shins were sore (the right one in particular). It wasn't dreadful. I ran at a pretty good clip and by the time I was done, I was feeling pretty good, but it caused me to start questioning once again whether a new shoe purchase might not be such a bad idea after all. It's difficult to feel the decrease in cushioning when you run frequently with the same shoes, but I do feel somewhat more aware of the impact of the steps now. Of course, this could just as easily be explained by the buildup of the mileage itself as any deterioration in footwear. We'll see.
Six more training runs left. Only two of those will be longer than four miles; a 6 miler tomorrow, and 8 miles on Sunday. My heart wants me to do more. Fortunately, my brain and my legs aren't listening.
Please visit my 'Make Cures Happen' fundraising page and make a donation for research into leukemia, lymphoma and myeloma. Also, check out my blog entry for more.
Time: 35:48
Pace: 8:52/mile
Weight: 194lbs
Terrain: Rolling Hills
Temperature: Cold and calm
Gear: Long-Sleeved Adidas Climacool Shirt, Adidas long training pants over Nike running shorts, Reebok Stocking Cap, iPod Shuffle, Nike Air Zoom Vomero Shoes
Hydration: None
Fuel: None
Medical: Shins
Recovery: Stretches, ice, Aleve
Shoe Mile Count: 297.45 miles
Days until Marathon: 12
After two days of rest, I had a bit of cabin fever. Yesterday was a bad day, with Meadow figuring out how to escape from the back yard. Might not sound like a big deal, but she has the energy of a nuclear power plant, so the yard had been a life saver; now I need to figure out a way to keep her in it. In addition, my work computer crashed which obviously slowed me down work-wise too, so it was rather stressful all around.
My point in sharing these apparently trivial events with you is that I've realized how much running balances me out. I'm usually more mentally relaxed the days that I run, and the longer it's been since the last one, the more tightly wound I feel, so I was really looking forward to logging a few miles today.
All that being said, much as I was grateful to be back out there, this wasn't the most comfortable run. My legs felt worn down, and both shins were sore (the right one in particular). It wasn't dreadful. I ran at a pretty good clip and by the time I was done, I was feeling pretty good, but it caused me to start questioning once again whether a new shoe purchase might not be such a bad idea after all. It's difficult to feel the decrease in cushioning when you run frequently with the same shoes, but I do feel somewhat more aware of the impact of the steps now. Of course, this could just as easily be explained by the buildup of the mileage itself as any deterioration in footwear. We'll see.
Six more training runs left. Only two of those will be longer than four miles; a 6 miler tomorrow, and 8 miles on Sunday. My heart wants me to do more. Fortunately, my brain and my legs aren't listening.
Please visit my 'Make Cures Happen' fundraising page and make a donation for research into leukemia, lymphoma and myeloma. Also, check out my blog entry for more.
Monday, January 5, 2009
The Destination - Part Two
Scottsdale...
- Has a population of around 240,000.
- Was described by the New York Times as "The Desert's version of Miami's South Beach", with plenty of night life and a buzzing hotel scene.
- Was once a village called Vasai Svasoni, which means "rotting hay"
- Boasts the highest number of destination spas per capita of any town in the USA.
- Is home to the corporate HQs of P.F. Chang's, Godaddy.com and Cold Stone Creamery.
- Will be where I'll run some of the middle portion of the race on January 18, 2009
Tempe...
- Has a population of around 174,000.
- Contains the corporate HQ for US Airways.
- Is the home of Arizona State University.
- Is the most densely populated city in the state of Arizona.
- Was named after the Vale of Tempe near Mount Olympus, Greece.
- Will be where I will hopefully stumble over the finish line on January 18, 2009.
Chandler...
- Has a population of around 240,000.
- Is noted for its annual "ostrich festival"
- Is home to several major manufacturing plants of the computer chip maker Intel.
- Counts among its sometime residents the rapper Ice-T, and (American) football players Donovan McNabb and Brian Urlacher.
- Is often considered a "bedroom community" for those working in the Phoenix area (and for Jill and I, who will also be resting our heads there for four nights next week.
Please visit my 'Make Cures Happen' fundraising page and make a donation for research into leukemia, lymphoma and myeloma. Also, check out my blog entry for more.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
The Destination - Part One
With 2 weeks until race day, I thought I'd look into the destination cities a little. I'll discuss the specifics of the race, including the course, closer to race day, but in brief, it actually covers three separate cities. The race begins in Phoenix proper, then passes through the suburb of Scottsdale and finishes in Tempe near Sun Devil Stadium, home of the Arizona State University Wildcats. Jill and I are staying in another suburb, Chandler, a little south of Tempe.
So let's start with Phoenix itself. I'll do Scottsdale, Tempe and Chandler in a subsequent post.
So let's start with Phoenix itself. I'll do Scottsdale, Tempe and Chandler in a subsequent post.
- It is the 5th largest city in the US, with a population of around 1.5 million. The Phoenix Metropolitan area has a population of around 4.6 million.
- Phoenix enjoys an average of 300 sunny days per year.
- Average annual high temperature is 85 degrees.
- January's average high is 67 degrees.
- Since 1896 it has only snowed 7 times in Phoenix.
- Famous Phoenicians include Dan Quayle, John McCain, Steven Spielberg, Alice Cooper, Barry Bonds, Phil Mickelson and Mike Tyson.
- Before it officially became Phoenix, the town was called Pumpkinville due to the large pumpkins that grew in fields by canals.
- Phoenix's Sky Harbor International Airport is the 18th busiest in the world.
- The Phoenix area is home to over 200 golf courses.
Though I once caught a connecting flight in Phoenix, other than that, this will be my first trip to Arizona. Hopefully I won't slip on any left over pumpkins.
Please visit my 'Make Cures Happen' fundraising page and make a donation for research into leukemia, lymphoma and myeloma. Also, check out my blog entry for more.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
The Daily Log 1/3/09
Distance: 13.11 miles
Time: 1:44:30
Pace: 7:58/mile
Weight: 194lbs
Terrain: Gently Rolling
Temperature: Warm and overcast, gradually turning sunny. Intermittently breezy
Gear: Hospital Hill Tech Shirt, Adidas running shorts, Gobbler Grind Running Cap, iPod Shuffle, Nike Air Zoom Vomero Shoes
Hydration: Water, Gatorade
Fuel: None
Medical: Minor right shin, tight right hamstring
Recovery: Stretches, ice, Aleve
Shoe Mile Count: 293.41 miles
Days until Marathon: 15
I honestly wasn't planning such a blow out, but a combination of the weather and the knowledge that this would be my last truly long run before the race sent me out quickly and I simply never let up. It's the fastest pace per mile I've done during my whole training cycle, over any distance, even the short runs, and without wishing to sound show-offy, I think I could have run even a few seconds faster... at about 10ish miles in, a dog broke away from its owner and chased me a little way down the street. This led to my hamstring tightening up, so I had to back off for about a mile until that loosened up again. And yes, it was a big dog - a German Shepherd - not a miniature poodle thank you very much.
I actually was initially planning to run tomorrow but it's forecast to be some twenty degrees cooler, with winds 10 mph faster, and with my shin feeling OK, it was a fairly easy choice to move that up a day and instead take my two days off after the long run. The shin held up pretty well; it was much improved over Thursday, though still a little sore for the first mile or two. Other than that and the aforementioned dog-induced hamstring, the run was comfortable over a relatively gentle course (though I certainly did feel the inclines there were). The weather was insanely warm; almost like a mild summer day. The longer I was out there, the warmer - and sunnier - it became, until I was almost too warm despite wearing shorts and a short-sleeve top.
I mentioned the other day that I've stopped obsessing so much about my pace, and though I was probably somewhat reckless going this fast this late, part of it is a mental thing. I want to push myself from time to time. I'd like to say I won't do it again before the race, but I've broken that promise before, so I suppose this time I'll just say that I'll see and leave it at that.
Please visit my 'Make Cures Happen' fundraising page and make a donation for research into leukemia, lymphoma and myeloma. Also, check out my blog entry for more.
Time: 1:44:30
Pace: 7:58/mile
Weight: 194lbs
Terrain: Gently Rolling
Temperature: Warm and overcast, gradually turning sunny. Intermittently breezy
Gear: Hospital Hill Tech Shirt, Adidas running shorts, Gobbler Grind Running Cap, iPod Shuffle, Nike Air Zoom Vomero Shoes
Hydration: Water, Gatorade
Fuel: None
Medical: Minor right shin, tight right hamstring
Recovery: Stretches, ice, Aleve
Shoe Mile Count: 293.41 miles
Days until Marathon: 15
I honestly wasn't planning such a blow out, but a combination of the weather and the knowledge that this would be my last truly long run before the race sent me out quickly and I simply never let up. It's the fastest pace per mile I've done during my whole training cycle, over any distance, even the short runs, and without wishing to sound show-offy, I think I could have run even a few seconds faster... at about 10ish miles in, a dog broke away from its owner and chased me a little way down the street. This led to my hamstring tightening up, so I had to back off for about a mile until that loosened up again. And yes, it was a big dog - a German Shepherd - not a miniature poodle thank you very much.
I actually was initially planning to run tomorrow but it's forecast to be some twenty degrees cooler, with winds 10 mph faster, and with my shin feeling OK, it was a fairly easy choice to move that up a day and instead take my two days off after the long run. The shin held up pretty well; it was much improved over Thursday, though still a little sore for the first mile or two. Other than that and the aforementioned dog-induced hamstring, the run was comfortable over a relatively gentle course (though I certainly did feel the inclines there were). The weather was insanely warm; almost like a mild summer day. The longer I was out there, the warmer - and sunnier - it became, until I was almost too warm despite wearing shorts and a short-sleeve top.
I mentioned the other day that I've stopped obsessing so much about my pace, and though I was probably somewhat reckless going this fast this late, part of it is a mental thing. I want to push myself from time to time. I'd like to say I won't do it again before the race, but I've broken that promise before, so I suppose this time I'll just say that I'll see and leave it at that.
Please visit my 'Make Cures Happen' fundraising page and make a donation for research into leukemia, lymphoma and myeloma. Also, check out my blog entry for more.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
The Daily Log 1/1/09
Distance: 4.14 miles
Time: 35:07
Pace: 8:28/mile
Weight: 194lbs
Terrain: Rolling
Temperature: Cold and calm
Gear: KC Royals wicking shirt, Adidas running shorts, Road Runner Running Cap, iPod Shuffle, Nike Air Zoom Vomero Shoes
Hydration: None
Fuel: None
Medical: Right shin
Recovery: Stretches, ice, Aleve
Shoe Mile Count: 280.29 miles
Days until Marathon: 17
It's January 1st and I ran in short-sleeves and shorts. It's as if the weather wants me to succeed - or maybe it just wants me to stop going on about it all the time.
As is often the case, this last run of the week was a bit sore, with the shin acting up a little. Part of the reason I ran today was so that I could rest for two straight days before my long run on Sunday, and I think I'll need it. I've only taken one day off since Sunday's 20 miler, and have already put 16 more miles on my legs. It's time for some r n' r. (that's rest n' relaxation... the rock n' roll is later in the month ;-) )
Other than the achy shin, it was a pretty pleasant stroll. I ran quite fast, but not recklessly, and I zoned out to my music and imagination for good stretches. These days, 4 miles feels like little more than a warm up, and with two more weeks of gradually decreasing mileages, I have a feeling I'll be chomping at the bit by race day.
Please visit my 'Make Cures Happen' fundraising page and make a donation for research into leukemia, lymphoma and myeloma. Also, check out my blog entry for more.
Time: 35:07
Pace: 8:28/mile
Weight: 194lbs
Terrain: Rolling
Temperature: Cold and calm
Gear: KC Royals wicking shirt, Adidas running shorts, Road Runner Running Cap, iPod Shuffle, Nike Air Zoom Vomero Shoes
Hydration: None
Fuel: None
Medical: Right shin
Recovery: Stretches, ice, Aleve
Shoe Mile Count: 280.29 miles
Days until Marathon: 17
It's January 1st and I ran in short-sleeves and shorts. It's as if the weather wants me to succeed - or maybe it just wants me to stop going on about it all the time.
As is often the case, this last run of the week was a bit sore, with the shin acting up a little. Part of the reason I ran today was so that I could rest for two straight days before my long run on Sunday, and I think I'll need it. I've only taken one day off since Sunday's 20 miler, and have already put 16 more miles on my legs. It's time for some r n' r. (that's rest n' relaxation... the rock n' roll is later in the month ;-) )
Other than the achy shin, it was a pretty pleasant stroll. I ran quite fast, but not recklessly, and I zoned out to my music and imagination for good stretches. These days, 4 miles feels like little more than a warm up, and with two more weeks of gradually decreasing mileages, I have a feeling I'll be chomping at the bit by race day.
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