Obviously my intention of doing a daily blog posting has had the same result as most of my New Years' resolutions: good intentions with lousy follow through...
Marathon #2 - Zion's Bank Odgen Marathon - I had pneumonia and qualified for the Boston Marathon with a time of 3 hours 11 minutes. My previous personal best had been 3 hours 45 minutes.
How did I shave off 30 minutes? While having pneumonia??? Its easy, I had a ringer. Here's the story...
After the Salt Lake City Marathon, I had three weeks to train. This translates to 1 week of easy training letting my muscles recover. The next week involved intensity increasing runs peaking at day 14. The final week involved tapering and carbo loading so by day 21 I would be ready for the full 26.2 miles.
Week 1 & 2 went better than expected. I peaked at just the right time on day 14 with a 20 mile run and felt great afterward. The following day I woke up with a slightly sore throat. This is not that uncommon after a long run. Because of my intense training, I have come to expect that my immune system takes a beating and is handicapped after especially long runs. This was no problem, I did a low intensity 5 miler on day 15. However, I nearly blacked out after I got off the treadmill. Not to worry though, it was the beginning of week 3 and it was a taper and carb loading week. There was plenty of time to get my body sufficient rest and nutrition before the coming race. I was getting excited.
Unfortunately, days 16-18 showed no signs of me recovering. I have run a marathon sick before but this time my body just didn't feel right. Regardless, I was going to run this race even if it killed me. By the time day 19 rolled around and I decided to go to the doctor to get on antibiotic, it was too late. The flu test-negative, the strep test-negative, the chest x-ray was another story. To quote the radiologist upon first glance at the film "OH MY GOD" . And there is was, the biggest cloudiest xray the radiologist had ever seen. The race could actually kill me. I had pneumonia. Additional tests showed that my oxygen intake was at 70 percent. Had I not been in such good shape I would have been hospitalized for several days. Fortunately, the doctors let me go home with several antibiotics, steriods and a massive inhaler.
Dammit, Dammit, Dammit...despite feeling like crap, I felt like a kid who was at the ticket line at Disneyland and told that he is too short to ride any of the rides. I had done so much and prepared so much to be at this point at this time, to have it all go down the toilet....
Or so I thought...
I have an aquantaince, Steve, who I occasionally work with. He runs, but hasn't really been training this season and was trying to get into the Ogden Marathon for some time. Unfortunately for him, it sold out in 2 days and he didn't get his registration in on time. Every time I talked with him, he mumbled about how unfair the registration process was and that he probably wouldn't be running any races this season...blah, blah, blah...
On my way home from the doctors, I happen to see Steve hanging out in front of his job and I pulled over and told him my sad story. Then I did something nice, I asked Steve if he wanted to run for me. I handed him my ID and told him that he could even have the race swag and not worry about the registration fees since I would have lost them anyhow.
Steve prepared me that he handn't trained this season (in fact I thought I saw him smoking a cigarette a few days before). It didn't really matter, I would rather have someone use my registration than the opportunity go to waste. I wished him luck then went home and pouted for the rest of the day.
The day of the race came and I spent it in bed not giving another thought about how I missed out. I was so sick, I was praying for death.
Sunday started my slow recovery. I woke up and got online to find out how Steve did in the race. I scrolled the names from the bottom and didn't see my name, so I figured that Steve wasn't able to run. I did only give him a days notice. As I scrolled up to see the winning time, there it was, 10th from the top in my age division: Thomas Sweigart 3:11:48. I QAULIFIED FOR THE BOSTON MARATHON.
Holy crap...I couldn't believe it. Steve had managed to run his best race under my name. He was only 3 minutes off my age groups winning time.
The following day I saw Steve and he thanked me for allowing him to run and that it reinvigorated his passion for running. I joked that he qaulified me for Boston and he stated that was his goal as a thank you for my generosity.
In conlclusion, unless you read this blog, I will insist that I qualified myself. So feel free to call me out if I mention it and you happen to know the truth. Of the few people I have told, I get asked whether or not I will enter Boston in 2010. The simple answer: ABSO-FRICKIN-LUTELY!!! I already have the plane ticket!!!
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Fit To Be Tied
I recognize that some people are experts in their chosen profession. I also recognize that most people merely choose thier profession because they are simply worse at everything else. Knowing this, I have to continually ask myself why I trust the simpletons that work at the local sporting goods store. For the record, I am not referring to the 7 foot 2 college basketball player that is paying his way through school by working at the local Footlocker. Nor am I referring to the part time little league coach who somehow made it into management at the local Big 5. I am referring to the people who work in the local specialty sporting goods store, Als. Don't get me wrong, the people who work at Al's are more knowledgeable about their departments than anyone who has ever worked at Footlocker or Big 5. However, these store clerks were just a few answers better on their SAT's than their big box counterparts. This entitles them to a greater level of knowledgeability, but by no means, expertise. Why oh why do I trust them so?
Consequently, I have not run any two races in the same pair of shoes. Running shoes, because I am an avid treadmill trainer, typically last about 350 miles or 6 weeks or so. Sometimes I can eke out 8 weeks, but my feet pay the ultimate price. Anyhow, every time I am in Al's shoe department it is a new sales associate who convinces me they know all the latest in running shoes and running shoe technology. I always enter the store prepared and have read up on the latest shoes from Asics, Brooks, Saucony (I laugh at anyone who runs in Nikes - worst running shoes ever made - and I think that is official). I know that I have a Neutral stride, with a normal arch and slightly wide (a little larger than D width - but not quite an E). Running shoe manufacturers like all companies intent on keeping up with public demand and technology come out with new shoes several times per year, each shoe better than the other. The new Asics has a super new gel sole, the Suacony has new arch support, the Brooks is eco friendly, blah blah blah.
I was of the belief that shoes took a couple good runs to break in, but *shock* I was wrong. I finally found the best pair of shoes that I have ever worn. The Brooks DYAD, the best fitting, no blistering, foot hugging, toe massaging shoe I had ever tried on. But, because I had just run in Sauconys and they seemed to be ok, I decided to by a pair of Hurricanes also, to compare the DYADs too.
I was in the return line three days later giving up on my Sauconys after the best three runs I have ever had. Katrina and the Waves could have been my theme song because I definitely felt I was walking on sunshine. I traded the Sauconys in for a second pair of Brooks DYADs. I had found my running mate. The curse was broken. I trained and ran the Salt Lake City Marathon without a single blister or sore foot. Three hundred fifty miles were up and the soles of the shoes were wearing thin. The life cycle of this pair of shoes had come to its end. Fortunately, I had a second pair just waiting to be run in.
I laced up the new pair and went for a 10 miler and noticed that the top of my right foot was starting to hurt. I loosened the laces and took the shoes out for another 10 miler the next day. I'd be damned if the top of my foot was hurting again. So, I went into Al's to inquire if the shoe had a defect or at least get an explanation as to why this sudden phenomenon was occurring. The sales associate took out his trusted foot measurer and proceeded to tell me that the problem was not the shoe, the problem was my foot. You see, while my foot measures a true 10, when you measure just the bottom of my foot not including the toes, my foot size should be an 11. How could this be? I evidently have very small toes. Are you kidding me? Small toes?
Again I was intrigued by the obvious knowledge of the sales associate who quickly fitted me into a 10 1/2 Saucony Hurricane. Even though I had already tried these shoes before, I assumed the sales associate knew what was best and I bought the new shoes. I felt like an ass every mile I ran and wished I was in my old DYADs.
Then it occured to me. What if the sales associate was right and wrong? Perhaps what I needed was a bigger size of my favorite shoe? Well today, I went out and bought a new larger pair of DYADs and took them on a 6 miler. While the larger size did prevent the discomfort in the top of my right foot, I cannot feel somewhat bamboozled that the sales associate knew I would be coming back for my favorite shoes and just got that extra sale by telling me all the technical mumbo jumbo - like I had small toes. Perhaps this accounts for his better SAT scores - deductive reasoning!
Consequently, I have not run any two races in the same pair of shoes. Running shoes, because I am an avid treadmill trainer, typically last about 350 miles or 6 weeks or so. Sometimes I can eke out 8 weeks, but my feet pay the ultimate price. Anyhow, every time I am in Al's shoe department it is a new sales associate who convinces me they know all the latest in running shoes and running shoe technology. I always enter the store prepared and have read up on the latest shoes from Asics, Brooks, Saucony (I laugh at anyone who runs in Nikes - worst running shoes ever made - and I think that is official). I know that I have a Neutral stride, with a normal arch and slightly wide (a little larger than D width - but not quite an E). Running shoe manufacturers like all companies intent on keeping up with public demand and technology come out with new shoes several times per year, each shoe better than the other. The new Asics has a super new gel sole, the Suacony has new arch support, the Brooks is eco friendly, blah blah blah.
I was of the belief that shoes took a couple good runs to break in, but *shock* I was wrong. I finally found the best pair of shoes that I have ever worn. The Brooks DYAD, the best fitting, no blistering, foot hugging, toe massaging shoe I had ever tried on. But, because I had just run in Sauconys and they seemed to be ok, I decided to by a pair of Hurricanes also, to compare the DYADs too.
I was in the return line three days later giving up on my Sauconys after the best three runs I have ever had. Katrina and the Waves could have been my theme song because I definitely felt I was walking on sunshine. I traded the Sauconys in for a second pair of Brooks DYADs. I had found my running mate. The curse was broken. I trained and ran the Salt Lake City Marathon without a single blister or sore foot. Three hundred fifty miles were up and the soles of the shoes were wearing thin. The life cycle of this pair of shoes had come to its end. Fortunately, I had a second pair just waiting to be run in.
I laced up the new pair and went for a 10 miler and noticed that the top of my right foot was starting to hurt. I loosened the laces and took the shoes out for another 10 miler the next day. I'd be damned if the top of my foot was hurting again. So, I went into Al's to inquire if the shoe had a defect or at least get an explanation as to why this sudden phenomenon was occurring. The sales associate took out his trusted foot measurer and proceeded to tell me that the problem was not the shoe, the problem was my foot. You see, while my foot measures a true 10, when you measure just the bottom of my foot not including the toes, my foot size should be an 11. How could this be? I evidently have very small toes. Are you kidding me? Small toes?
Again I was intrigued by the obvious knowledge of the sales associate who quickly fitted me into a 10 1/2 Saucony Hurricane. Even though I had already tried these shoes before, I assumed the sales associate knew what was best and I bought the new shoes. I felt like an ass every mile I ran and wished I was in my old DYADs.
Then it occured to me. What if the sales associate was right and wrong? Perhaps what I needed was a bigger size of my favorite shoe? Well today, I went out and bought a new larger pair of DYADs and took them on a 6 miler. While the larger size did prevent the discomfort in the top of my right foot, I cannot feel somewhat bamboozled that the sales associate knew I would be coming back for my favorite shoes and just got that extra sale by telling me all the technical mumbo jumbo - like I had small toes. Perhaps this accounts for his better SAT scores - deductive reasoning!
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
It's not you, its the scale!
I made a grave mistake on Saturday that has left me feeling a little down lately. For the sake of full disclosure, it has left me a lot down. As I have mentioned (and will continue to mention) I love to run. Well, one of the attributes of a runner is a slender frame with very little body fat. I have never nor will I ever have the body structure of an Ethiopian marathoner. This is a fact I have long come to accept. I do however want to be the trimmest that my body will allow. Not only because I will look better, but because the smaller I am the faster and more effecient I will run.
I realized last week that my diet (by diet I do not mean "diet" as in Weight Watcher - I stopped that type of dieting many years ago) needed more tweeking in order for me to be more effecient. It is customary for me, once I make my mind up or need information on any given subject, to read and absorb all the information that I can on the subject. After going to my local Borders and buying 10 books (I should have just read them there like everybody else, but they kinda get pissed if you highlight them and don't buy them) I discovered the best book of them all - Performance Nutrition for Runners.
It became clear, my diet up to this point had been limiting me. I obviously enjoyed the tres leches cake I devoured last week, but I also eat a lot of prepared foods both for the simplicity and the cost. I learned this was a big mistake. I should be eating natural foods, not necessarily organic, just natural. And, I should be taking in more protein than I currently eat. Not to mention I am lacking in Omega 3 and 6 fatty acids...blah blah blah....
Monday, of last week I went to GNC to get all the dietary ingredients that my body has been missing. I bought Mega Anabolic Whey Protein (60 grams/serving), Sports Complex Amino Acid supplements, Glutamine powder, Green Magma and Vita Green Liquid Multi - not to mention my usual daily dose of multivitamin. I am used to taking numerous supplements, but this would be the most and based upon all the scientific analysis that I read, I needed it all.
I typically run about 60 miles a week. With my feet pounding the treadmill (I bet you thought I was going to write pavement), it causes a breakdown of muscle that requires glutamine, protein and several phytonutrients to maintain its strength. In addition, this additional nutritional supplementation will cause less fatigue and quicker recovery after longer runs. It made sense, so I began adjusting my diet.
It all made sense...until...I stepped on the scale on Saturday morning. 192 pounds! You have got to be kidding me! After all the running I did the past week, 192 pounds - 7 pounds heavier than my average. I only gave myself a two day break after saturday's race - actually a one day break since I always take Sunday off anyhow. Tuesday - Saturday I ran my usual mileage. Surely the tres leche didn't cause me to gain 7 pounds. I worked off any of the calories that were injested during my binge fest. So what in the hell was happening?
I hadn't quite got to the part of the book that made the statement that scales are not an effective method of determining a bodies ability to absorb and burn energy during any given workout and that once you adjust your diet expect your body to absorb more water, your muscles to begin healing by absorbing the protein...
Whew...this explains it all. Unfortunately, I did not get to that part of the book until this morning and I took out all my frustrations on my loved ones all weekend. I have read though that anger burns an additional 30 calories per hour...
I realized last week that my diet (by diet I do not mean "diet" as in Weight Watcher - I stopped that type of dieting many years ago) needed more tweeking in order for me to be more effecient. It is customary for me, once I make my mind up or need information on any given subject, to read and absorb all the information that I can on the subject. After going to my local Borders and buying 10 books (I should have just read them there like everybody else, but they kinda get pissed if you highlight them and don't buy them) I discovered the best book of them all - Performance Nutrition for Runners.
It became clear, my diet up to this point had been limiting me. I obviously enjoyed the tres leches cake I devoured last week, but I also eat a lot of prepared foods both for the simplicity and the cost. I learned this was a big mistake. I should be eating natural foods, not necessarily organic, just natural. And, I should be taking in more protein than I currently eat. Not to mention I am lacking in Omega 3 and 6 fatty acids...blah blah blah....
Monday, of last week I went to GNC to get all the dietary ingredients that my body has been missing. I bought Mega Anabolic Whey Protein (60 grams/serving), Sports Complex Amino Acid supplements, Glutamine powder, Green Magma and Vita Green Liquid Multi - not to mention my usual daily dose of multivitamin. I am used to taking numerous supplements, but this would be the most and based upon all the scientific analysis that I read, I needed it all.
I typically run about 60 miles a week. With my feet pounding the treadmill (I bet you thought I was going to write pavement), it causes a breakdown of muscle that requires glutamine, protein and several phytonutrients to maintain its strength. In addition, this additional nutritional supplementation will cause less fatigue and quicker recovery after longer runs. It made sense, so I began adjusting my diet.
It all made sense...until...I stepped on the scale on Saturday morning. 192 pounds! You have got to be kidding me! After all the running I did the past week, 192 pounds - 7 pounds heavier than my average. I only gave myself a two day break after saturday's race - actually a one day break since I always take Sunday off anyhow. Tuesday - Saturday I ran my usual mileage. Surely the tres leche didn't cause me to gain 7 pounds. I worked off any of the calories that were injested during my binge fest. So what in the hell was happening?
I hadn't quite got to the part of the book that made the statement that scales are not an effective method of determining a bodies ability to absorb and burn energy during any given workout and that once you adjust your diet expect your body to absorb more water, your muscles to begin healing by absorbing the protein...
Whew...this explains it all. Unfortunately, I did not get to that part of the book until this morning and I took out all my frustrations on my loved ones all weekend. I have read though that anger burns an additional 30 calories per hour...
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
SLC Marathon
Here in Logan Utah the winters are harsh and even when the sun is shining the temperature seldom rises above 20 degrees. The snow starts falling November 1 and finally starts to melt mid April. During this multi month freeze, your mind keeps telling your body how cold it is and that it needs to reserve as much fat as it can to generate warmth if needed. The days become dreary and quite depressing.
This year was going to be different. Early in January, I decided that I needed to have a goal that would force me to shed the couple extra pounds I gained during the holidays and maintain the fitness level I got to by the end of summer. I had a brilliant idea. I would register for the Utah Grand Slam - 4 marathons in 1 summer.
Obviously, I had just finished a run and my endorphins were at their peak when I made this rash decision. Its kind of like going to the grocery store when you are really hungry...you get all kinds of crap that you don't really need. Anyhow, I immediately registered for 4 marathons and a 190 mile ultramarathon relay. Since the first race wasn't until mid-April, I had plenty of time to train. This was going to be my 4th marathon after all, so I had this race in the bag....
...I thought I had this race in the bag, until mid-March when it dawned on me that winter may not be over by the day of the race. The forecasts were not looking good. Over a foot of snow was still on the ground and the horrible weather kept coming and coming. Oh, I should mention, I have never trained in the snow nor do I train outdoors. I am an avid treadmill trainer. I have a phobia that if I run outside, I will twist my ankle and not be able to make it home. Plus, if I am injured I may not be able to run for an extended period of time and that would lead to overeating and ultimately an untimely death caused by complications from early onset diabetes. I do not have any medical problems currently, I just fear that running outside will cause them. I also hate the cold - and hot - and the sun beating down on my bald head. Like I said, I am an avid treadmill trainer.
Regardless of the obstacles that laid ahead, I continued my training. My regiment was set, I had my long training runs scheduled and I finally dropped the extra pounds. As the day of the race got closer, the weather continued to be really cold and wet.
After my last marathon, I knew that I needed upgraded gear to run more efficiently. Truthfully, I just wanted something new, so, I drove the 90 miles from Logan to SLC to the Wasatch Running Center. I was like a fat kid in a candy store. The whole shop was nothing but running gear. If you knew how difficult it is to find suitable running gear in Logan, you would surely understand the excitment that was coursing through my veins. Not to mention, the salesman is a marathon runner too and understands all the odd questions that I had. I used this opportunity to pick someone else's brain. You see, running is quite a solo sport. Most people have a hard time comprehending why someone would put themselves through the grueling task of running 26.2 miles. Therefore, most people disbelieve that I actually run these races. And, I am hardly the typical size and shape of a marathon runner.
Anyhow, I am in the store and I was complaining that the watch I typically use requires a foot pod and is not very accurate with mileage and pace. The salesman showed me the new Garmin 405 Forerunner, not the old one that looks and feels like you are wearing a Blackberry on your wrist, but the new one that is actually smaller than my old watch. As soon as I had the Garmin in my hand, I knew I was going to buy it. And because I had driven that far, I decided that I also needed a new pair of running sunglasses. It was the lightest pair of glasses I have ever had on my face. I wore both the watch and sunglasses out the store and for the entire drive home. It was a beautiful day and there was only 5 days before the race.
It is always best to train with your gear so there are no surprises come race day. However, I now had a new watch and sunglasses that I had to adjust to. As soon as I got home I checked the weather so I could venture out into the unknown - outdoor training. Mother Nature was having none of it. At the moment I was fuming over the weather forecast, the sun that I had enjoyed on the drive home turned to clouds and the snow started falling. YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!!! And it stayed like that until Friday afternoon. The GPS on my watch, which requires me to be outside, would remain untested until the day of the race. The sunglasses may never make it out of my drop bag. I don't know if my pre-race anxiety was for the actual race or the excitement of using my new gear.
Fortunately, on Friday, the sun peaked through the clouds. The forecast for the race was going to be 35 degrees at the start and 50 degrees by the finish - and sunny. HOOOORRRRAAAY! I drove down to SLC early to pick up my race packet, get settled in my hotel room and make sure that I get to the All-You-Can-Eat Pasta party early to avoid lines and the porta potties on Saturday.
The evening was quite uneventful. I picked up my packet, checked into my room, ate mediocre pasta and sat on the bed and watched TV. During the 10'oclock news, a rush of excitement passed through me when the broadcast mentioned that 11,000 people were registered for the race. This was going to be my biggest race. Last year it was even televised. I told everyone I know to look for it and DVR the news broadcasts. I didn't expect to be on TV, but you never know. I went to bed and dreamed happy thoughts....
I chose this race because it advertised itself as moderately downhill and flat. The race started at Legacy Bridge on the University of Utah campus and ended at The Gateway. Since The Gateway is west of U of U it would have to be downhill. I should have studied the course map better. There was an overall decrease in altitude of 400 feet, however most of the race was at a 3%-5% incline.
At the starting line thousands of people were waiting to run the race of their lives. I had my GPS calibrated, the watch was comfortable, my sunglasses were on and I was ready to run the race of my life. The race officials decided that during pre-race stretching I should be listening to the musical stylings of the Utah Baptist Pentecostal Faith Temple Choir. What I learned during the hour before the race was that Jesus loves me and that he is risen. I would have perfered listening to Survivor's Eye of the Tiger, but songs about the death of Jesus were inspiring in their own way.
Wouldn't it figure, the horn to declare the beginning of the race was broken and so someone had to yell "ok, go" over the PA to begin the race, how anti-climatic. On a positive note...it has been the only race to begin on time...
I am running through the densely populated course until mile 5 when they break off the half marathoners from the full marathoners. It was then that I realized that the thousands of people that I was running with were not running my race. They were all running the shorter distance. There I am again a solo runner...
It was also at mile 5 that I realized why everybody was only running the half marathon, it was the grueling uphill portion of the race. I knew that miles 5-10 were uphill and I had prepared for them. In fact, I reasoned that this would help with the rest of the race, because I had past the worst the race had to offer. I was wrong - very very wrong.
Miles 5-10 were uphill and a little grueling, but I managed to stay on pace and still had plenty of energy. Mile 11 was a drastic decline and I caught my breath, put a smile on my face and prepared to kick some butt. I did not expect what I encountered next... 5 miles of a gradual incline.
I don't remember much of the race after mile 11. I do remember going over the course map time and time again wondering when the downhill portion would come. Maybe it was my frustration at that point, but I do not recall any downhill portion after mile 11.
The next memory I had was getting to the finish line and hearing the announcer call out "here comes #600 - he looks like he has been to hell and back". Thanks alot a**hole, lets see how you look after running 26 miles. Although I knew where he was coming from, I felt like I had been to hell and back. But I looked at my new watch and could not believe what I saw: 3:55. Three hours and fifty five minutes. While it was 10 minutes off my personal best, I was proud - this was the most grueling race of my life.
And there it was in all its glory, my entourage of friends with a giant astrobright yellow sign with the giant words - GLAD YOU MADE IT LARD ASS!!! I came to my senses and realized why I put myself through this...because I was once a lard ass.
This year was going to be different. Early in January, I decided that I needed to have a goal that would force me to shed the couple extra pounds I gained during the holidays and maintain the fitness level I got to by the end of summer. I had a brilliant idea. I would register for the Utah Grand Slam - 4 marathons in 1 summer.
Obviously, I had just finished a run and my endorphins were at their peak when I made this rash decision. Its kind of like going to the grocery store when you are really hungry...you get all kinds of crap that you don't really need. Anyhow, I immediately registered for 4 marathons and a 190 mile ultramarathon relay. Since the first race wasn't until mid-April, I had plenty of time to train. This was going to be my 4th marathon after all, so I had this race in the bag....
...I thought I had this race in the bag, until mid-March when it dawned on me that winter may not be over by the day of the race. The forecasts were not looking good. Over a foot of snow was still on the ground and the horrible weather kept coming and coming. Oh, I should mention, I have never trained in the snow nor do I train outdoors. I am an avid treadmill trainer. I have a phobia that if I run outside, I will twist my ankle and not be able to make it home. Plus, if I am injured I may not be able to run for an extended period of time and that would lead to overeating and ultimately an untimely death caused by complications from early onset diabetes. I do not have any medical problems currently, I just fear that running outside will cause them. I also hate the cold - and hot - and the sun beating down on my bald head. Like I said, I am an avid treadmill trainer.
Regardless of the obstacles that laid ahead, I continued my training. My regiment was set, I had my long training runs scheduled and I finally dropped the extra pounds. As the day of the race got closer, the weather continued to be really cold and wet.
After my last marathon, I knew that I needed upgraded gear to run more efficiently. Truthfully, I just wanted something new, so, I drove the 90 miles from Logan to SLC to the Wasatch Running Center. I was like a fat kid in a candy store. The whole shop was nothing but running gear. If you knew how difficult it is to find suitable running gear in Logan, you would surely understand the excitment that was coursing through my veins. Not to mention, the salesman is a marathon runner too and understands all the odd questions that I had. I used this opportunity to pick someone else's brain. You see, running is quite a solo sport. Most people have a hard time comprehending why someone would put themselves through the grueling task of running 26.2 miles. Therefore, most people disbelieve that I actually run these races. And, I am hardly the typical size and shape of a marathon runner.
Anyhow, I am in the store and I was complaining that the watch I typically use requires a foot pod and is not very accurate with mileage and pace. The salesman showed me the new Garmin 405 Forerunner, not the old one that looks and feels like you are wearing a Blackberry on your wrist, but the new one that is actually smaller than my old watch. As soon as I had the Garmin in my hand, I knew I was going to buy it. And because I had driven that far, I decided that I also needed a new pair of running sunglasses. It was the lightest pair of glasses I have ever had on my face. I wore both the watch and sunglasses out the store and for the entire drive home. It was a beautiful day and there was only 5 days before the race.
It is always best to train with your gear so there are no surprises come race day. However, I now had a new watch and sunglasses that I had to adjust to. As soon as I got home I checked the weather so I could venture out into the unknown - outdoor training. Mother Nature was having none of it. At the moment I was fuming over the weather forecast, the sun that I had enjoyed on the drive home turned to clouds and the snow started falling. YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!!! And it stayed like that until Friday afternoon. The GPS on my watch, which requires me to be outside, would remain untested until the day of the race. The sunglasses may never make it out of my drop bag. I don't know if my pre-race anxiety was for the actual race or the excitement of using my new gear.
Fortunately, on Friday, the sun peaked through the clouds. The forecast for the race was going to be 35 degrees at the start and 50 degrees by the finish - and sunny. HOOOORRRRAAAY! I drove down to SLC early to pick up my race packet, get settled in my hotel room and make sure that I get to the All-You-Can-Eat Pasta party early to avoid lines and the porta potties on Saturday.
The evening was quite uneventful. I picked up my packet, checked into my room, ate mediocre pasta and sat on the bed and watched TV. During the 10'oclock news, a rush of excitement passed through me when the broadcast mentioned that 11,000 people were registered for the race. This was going to be my biggest race. Last year it was even televised. I told everyone I know to look for it and DVR the news broadcasts. I didn't expect to be on TV, but you never know. I went to bed and dreamed happy thoughts....
I chose this race because it advertised itself as moderately downhill and flat. The race started at Legacy Bridge on the University of Utah campus and ended at The Gateway. Since The Gateway is west of U of U it would have to be downhill. I should have studied the course map better. There was an overall decrease in altitude of 400 feet, however most of the race was at a 3%-5% incline.
At the starting line thousands of people were waiting to run the race of their lives. I had my GPS calibrated, the watch was comfortable, my sunglasses were on and I was ready to run the race of my life. The race officials decided that during pre-race stretching I should be listening to the musical stylings of the Utah Baptist Pentecostal Faith Temple Choir. What I learned during the hour before the race was that Jesus loves me and that he is risen. I would have perfered listening to Survivor's Eye of the Tiger, but songs about the death of Jesus were inspiring in their own way.
Wouldn't it figure, the horn to declare the beginning of the race was broken and so someone had to yell "ok, go" over the PA to begin the race, how anti-climatic. On a positive note...it has been the only race to begin on time...
I am running through the densely populated course until mile 5 when they break off the half marathoners from the full marathoners. It was then that I realized that the thousands of people that I was running with were not running my race. They were all running the shorter distance. There I am again a solo runner...
It was also at mile 5 that I realized why everybody was only running the half marathon, it was the grueling uphill portion of the race. I knew that miles 5-10 were uphill and I had prepared for them. In fact, I reasoned that this would help with the rest of the race, because I had past the worst the race had to offer. I was wrong - very very wrong.
Miles 5-10 were uphill and a little grueling, but I managed to stay on pace and still had plenty of energy. Mile 11 was a drastic decline and I caught my breath, put a smile on my face and prepared to kick some butt. I did not expect what I encountered next... 5 miles of a gradual incline.
I don't remember much of the race after mile 11. I do remember going over the course map time and time again wondering when the downhill portion would come. Maybe it was my frustration at that point, but I do not recall any downhill portion after mile 11.
The next memory I had was getting to the finish line and hearing the announcer call out "here comes #600 - he looks like he has been to hell and back". Thanks alot a**hole, lets see how you look after running 26 miles. Although I knew where he was coming from, I felt like I had been to hell and back. But I looked at my new watch and could not believe what I saw: 3:55. Three hours and fifty five minutes. While it was 10 minutes off my personal best, I was proud - this was the most grueling race of my life.
And there it was in all its glory, my entourage of friends with a giant astrobright yellow sign with the giant words - GLAD YOU MADE IT LARD ASS!!! I came to my senses and realized why I put myself through this...because I was once a lard ass.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Tres Leches
I made it to the gym today despite residual soreness from Saturday's race (which I will discuss in length later). I probably should have taken another day off to rest my feet, but I couldn't. Despite conventional wisdom that excessive exercise should be followed up with healing time, yesterday I did something that forced me to throw that conventional wisdom to the curb.
As I contemplated my first actual entry into this fitness journal, I had an epiphany. Honesty. The ups AND DOWNS of my struggle to remain fit. Let me tell you...there are as many downs as ups. Yesterday was a down day, but today was a new day and a fresh day for success.
I love being rewarded for my successes. I don't know if its the mental mindset of receiving gifts on your birthday for doing nothing other than living or receiving a lollipop at the end of a doctors visit, but I know that whenever I have a success, I reward myself with food. Yesterday was no different. Sunday I rightfully gorged myself on everything that I touched in an effort to replenish my body with all the nutrients it lost during the race. Yesteray, however, there was no excuse....
I decided to go to Sam's Club (insert Costco, but Logan is too small for both) with the intention of getting dish soap and knowing that some walking would help the soreness and cramping in my legs. I managed to walk all the way to the back of the warehouse, you know, to stretch my sore legs. And would you believe it, I ended up in the bakery section. I have been to Sam's Club thousands of times and every time the bakery has been in the same place. But today, I was led to it.
And there it was. There was only one of them. It's name: Tres Leches. Now for anyone who does not know what Tres Leches is, let me describe it. Heavenly. It is the embodiment of all that is good in this world...cake and milk. I'm not usually a milk drinker, but some foods need milk to be fully enjoyed: doughnuts, cookies, etc. Wait a minute, did I just see gourmet cookies? Better get those too. That's right, not only did I get a Tres Leches cake, I also bought a dozen gourmet chocolate chip cookies. Dammit Sam's Club, you got me again.
I got home and cut a very large slice of the moist cake and realized that perhaps its milky goodness could be maximized with a cookie chaser. So, there it was on my plate, a quarter of a cake and a chocolate chip cookie. Within 5 minutes my plate was empty and I was planning when to eat my next piece. My whole day revolved around that cake. I was like a shark feeding on baby seals during their mating season. I contemplated...I conspired...I consumed half of that cake and a total of 4 cookies.
Yep, yesterday was a down day...but today was a new day and a fresh day for success.
As I contemplated my first actual entry into this fitness journal, I had an epiphany. Honesty. The ups AND DOWNS of my struggle to remain fit. Let me tell you...there are as many downs as ups. Yesterday was a down day, but today was a new day and a fresh day for success.
I love being rewarded for my successes. I don't know if its the mental mindset of receiving gifts on your birthday for doing nothing other than living or receiving a lollipop at the end of a doctors visit, but I know that whenever I have a success, I reward myself with food. Yesterday was no different. Sunday I rightfully gorged myself on everything that I touched in an effort to replenish my body with all the nutrients it lost during the race. Yesteray, however, there was no excuse....
I decided to go to Sam's Club (insert Costco, but Logan is too small for both) with the intention of getting dish soap and knowing that some walking would help the soreness and cramping in my legs. I managed to walk all the way to the back of the warehouse, you know, to stretch my sore legs. And would you believe it, I ended up in the bakery section. I have been to Sam's Club thousands of times and every time the bakery has been in the same place. But today, I was led to it.
And there it was. There was only one of them. It's name: Tres Leches. Now for anyone who does not know what Tres Leches is, let me describe it. Heavenly. It is the embodiment of all that is good in this world...cake and milk. I'm not usually a milk drinker, but some foods need milk to be fully enjoyed: doughnuts, cookies, etc. Wait a minute, did I just see gourmet cookies? Better get those too. That's right, not only did I get a Tres Leches cake, I also bought a dozen gourmet chocolate chip cookies. Dammit Sam's Club, you got me again.
I got home and cut a very large slice of the moist cake and realized that perhaps its milky goodness could be maximized with a cookie chaser. So, there it was on my plate, a quarter of a cake and a chocolate chip cookie. Within 5 minutes my plate was empty and I was planning when to eat my next piece. My whole day revolved around that cake. I was like a shark feeding on baby seals during their mating season. I contemplated...I conspired...I consumed half of that cake and a total of 4 cookies.
Yep, yesterday was a down day...but today was a new day and a fresh day for success.
How I Got Here
Ok, Saturday I finished my 4th marathon and had so much to say about the experience that I decided I needed a forum for discussion. I do not suppose that anyone would want to subscribe to this blog, however, I wanted to create a place that people could read about an average joe struggling to maintain a healthy lifestyle. And with my daily struggles gain insight and inspiration to achieve personal success for themselves.
Anyone who knew me growing up would have bet against me ever being fit, let alone a marathon runner. I was the fat kid in school. Each school had one. And I was it. Every school year I would return to class having dieted all summer long. The "congratulations" would last for a few days, until I would start the weight gain process - until I had gained all the weight back plus 20 additional pounds. My first diet was in kindergarted. I stopped dieting at the age of 27.
On September 12, 2001 - the day after the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center - I took a mental and physical inventory and figured it out. I weighed 331 lbs and smoked a pack and a half a day. I was in the worst shape of my life. I asked myself...If I had died yesterday, what would I have to show for for my life?...would I have died happy?. I coughed up a little Marlboro glob and realized...I needed to be better.
Here's what I figured out...despite any number of childhood traumas (and there were many)...I am the reason I am who I am and the way that I am. I have allowed myself to be this way.
My hypothesis is: If I accept responsibility for my past and accept the responsibility for my future, I can do and acheive all those things that were never within reach.
This blog will be the documented journal of my hypothesis in action. I CAN do and acheive anything I want as long as I take responsibility for my actions.
I will document my research, experience, products, training, racing...everything that I encounter on my daily struggle to stay fit. Because Right "Now I'm Fit".
Anyone who knew me growing up would have bet against me ever being fit, let alone a marathon runner. I was the fat kid in school. Each school had one. And I was it. Every school year I would return to class having dieted all summer long. The "congratulations" would last for a few days, until I would start the weight gain process - until I had gained all the weight back plus 20 additional pounds. My first diet was in kindergarted. I stopped dieting at the age of 27.
On September 12, 2001 - the day after the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center - I took a mental and physical inventory and figured it out. I weighed 331 lbs and smoked a pack and a half a day. I was in the worst shape of my life. I asked myself...If I had died yesterday, what would I have to show for for my life?...would I have died happy?. I coughed up a little Marlboro glob and realized...I needed to be better.
Here's what I figured out...despite any number of childhood traumas (and there were many)...I am the reason I am who I am and the way that I am. I have allowed myself to be this way.
My hypothesis is: If I accept responsibility for my past and accept the responsibility for my future, I can do and acheive all those things that were never within reach.
This blog will be the documented journal of my hypothesis in action. I CAN do and acheive anything I want as long as I take responsibility for my actions.
I will document my research, experience, products, training, racing...everything that I encounter on my daily struggle to stay fit. Because Right "Now I'm Fit".
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