the end

As 2008 nears its finish, I figure it's time to close up shop here at the runblog (which as Joe has pointed out has been more of a "crawlblog" as of late). It's been fun. Thanks again for reading.

And if you still pine for my writing, head over to this brand-new (as of January '09) blog >>> http://thoughtlab52.blogspot.com

And as far as a running update, I really feel like a half marathon might be in the cards for 2009. I'll go through some diagnostics once the weather warms, but until then, happy winter!

cold turkey

No race tomorrow for me. The opportunity to not run like a maniac in the frigid early morning proved too enticing to pass up. So nothing on the schedule tomorrow beyond a lot of resting, chatting, and eating.

Though I have no real desire to be running outside at this point, I do miss the exercise. The prospect of not running again until springtime is fairly daunting. I may need to forage for treadmills.

this'll be on my videotape

Having some time and distance from the race (well over a month now, yikes), it's probably worth looking back and sharing some reflections on my marathon summer.

Even though not that much time has passed, I am finding that my memories have already started to acquire the typical rosy hue of the past. My weekly Saturday runs used to leave me aching and exhausted, but I now remember them wistfully. I know intellectually that there were times of pain, but it is difficult for me to think of these workouts as anything but steady, assured jaunts along the streets of Greater Cleveland.

And if the painful parts have been mentally de-fanged, how much more the pleasant ones...

I had a good chat with Tom recently about music and its ability to transport one to an earlier time. Music is definitely woven into the fabric of this summer. I will retain a particular fondness for many of the songs on my running playlist, with special places of honor reserved for Death and All His Friends and Welcome to the Black Parade (for their ability to conjure specific moments of my summer training).

Did I learn anything?

Well, I think I can chalk up trust and dependence as good lessons. As I consider the story of the Exodus, I get the sense that if I were among the Israelites, I would have definitely been one of the ones attempting to collect enough manna for several days, only to have the balance spoil overnight. I like to prepare for things, maybe too much sometimes. So it was a beneficial exercise (oh yes, I can rock a bad pun) for me to engage in an endeavor like this, where the progress was continuous yet almost imperceptible. I couldn't train enough to ready myself for the race in a single day, a week, or even a month. I had to go step by step, taking each day and each run for what it was, trusting that over the course of the summer my body would be made into a marathon-ready machine. I think life is like this.

What did I gain from the experience?

I remember during the Olympics watching a feature on Michael Phelps. The swimmer. After winning his first gold medal in Athens, he found his mom and sisters in the crowd and showed them his prize, saying, "look what I did!" That story and quote have stuck with me since then because, in a sense, I felt like that was my summer's exclamation to the God who gave me a runner's frame. If running provides me an opportunity to truly be myself, then I spent lot of time in a good place this summer. I almost look at my workouts as prayers of joy and thanksgiving to a Father who took pleasure in my efforts. I think that is part of why the race (and even some of my longer runs) ended up leaving me emotionally overwhelmed after the finish, and why I may continue to run for as long as this earthsuit allows me to. And if my race was unsightly and uneven at times, well, I think our parents all loved those lumpy ceramic ashtrays we made in our 3rd grade art classes.

Why did I do this?

I am still fuzzy as to my exact reasons. I'd like to think that the marathon was more than just 'something to do' and that it went beyond mere pride, though those were both probably factors. I suppose for now I will just revert to the answer I hinted at in the second post of this blog. I think that for a lot of runners, at some point a marathon just seems like destiny. That sounds hokey, but it seems like once the question is out there, you're always going to wonder if you could travel 26.2. So I decided to find out.

That's all I can come up with at this point. I feel that this blog is on its last legs, but if I think of anything else important in the coming days I'll post it.

And I'm sorry if the use of 'last legs' pushed this entry past the point of pun saturation.

month 11

While running yesterday through weather that was nothing if not "November-ish", it seemed pretty clear that old man 2008 is nearing his end. Now that the clocks have changed, we've entered the season when nearly all of my daylight hours are spent indoors. This is a depressing thought for cubicle-dwellers like myself, but we were at least given one last week of temperate weather (that I wish I could have bottled).

If last week was indeed the last fair weather we are to have here in Cleveland this year, I am very glad that I went out with the running club during lunch on Thursday. We ran four miles at a brisk pace, on Metropark paths that looked almost golden because of all the fallen yellow leaves. It was only the second workout since the race, and the first that my body felt more or less back to normal. And after a few weeks of finding it awfully easy to put off running until another day, it felt great to really run again without any significant pain (though I was a bit sore on Friday). A fitting sendoff to the 2008 running season.

Now, there is still the question of a Turkey Trot later this month, but part of me feels like there is nothing left to prove. I foresee difficulty in forcing myself to go outside and run fast to prepare when I can instead just sit inside in the company of my slippers and some radiators. And I also remember how I felt after the race two years ago, when it took over ten minutes for me to come to the conclusion that no, I was not going to have to throw up after all.

There's still that pull though. I must be kinda fond of this running stuff.

this is Major Tom to ground control

I'd like to take an opportunity to send out some belated thanks to those involved in some way with my marathon experience. If this was a moon shot, you all were mission control, the launch pad, and my Saturn V.

To Dylana...
for pitching me this crazy idea and making it sound like a good one. And for your diligent correspondence throughout, from before week 1 to after week 18.

To my family...
for making the trip to Chicago and for shuttling me back to Cleveland when my long runs took me to 30100. Seeing you after the race meant a lot.

To Jeff...
for your hospitality in Chicago. You can be my wingman anytime.

To Andy, Dylana, Andrew, Paul, and the Moen runners...
who at some point shared some footsteps with me along the way. Especially Paul, whose presence made those long Wednesday runs in the later weeks a lot less soul-crushing than they could have been.

To Matt and Nicole...
for all of the marathon advice, which helped me to not freak out.

To Dan and Meagan...
for doing your best to comfort me during those tough couple days in Brooklyn.

To Joe, Sheila, and Wayne...
for glasses of water during and after my Cleveland Heights runs. And for the packs of frozen vegetables and Chipotle.

To my donors...
who made the fundraising part of the marathon a real blessing. You were exceedingly generous.

To my readers...
who helped sell me on the concept of blogging. It was nice to know someone was reading. And when you posted comments, they were more humorous, insightful, and encouraging than you know.

And to my friends in Cleveland and all over the place...
for taking an interest in my running, listening to me ramble on sometimes, and occasionally making me feel just a little bit superhuman.

afterwards

I went for a run on Saturday for the first time since the marathon. I had imagined my first post-race run as a fairly glorious event, but it was actually quite short. I discontinued my usage of ibuprofen during last week and my knees were still achy, limiting the workout to a casual two miles. It did feel good to hit the sidewalks in the brisk fall weather though.

Since I got back from Chicago, the questions I am getting the most (besides general inquiries on the race itself) are:
1) Are you going to run more marathons?
2) What will happen to the blog?

As far as another marathon goes, I really don't know. I think I am going to need some distance from the first one before making that decision. I feel that going through the experience once would surely help the next gauntlet of training (as well as the race) flow more smoothly, and I wouldn't mind being immersed once again in the unique and exciting marathon atmosphere. But deep down, I suspect that it would prove difficult for me to gear up for another four months of such intensive running. So for at least the time being, I have no concrete plans to marathon again, though the thought of losing my current level of fitness over the winter does make me a little sad (echoes of Flowers for Algernon). Even though there's no reason for me to be this fit, I kind of like knowing that I could run 20 miles if the need arose.

For now, my immediate plans are to prepare for a Thanksgiving Day 5K (if my body has forgiven me), then get fattened up a bit over the holidays. I probably won't do a lot of running over the winter, but I doubt I will be at a loss for ways to occupy my time. Among other things, I think it is time to start assembling the skeleton of screenplay 2.

Not sure about the blog at this point. At the very least, I think the runblog in its current form has a few posts left in it. We'll see what happens after that.

26.2

I should have posted this earlier than Thursday night/Friday morning, but it took a while to write. I'd like to recount the events of Sunday morning...

After a somewhat restless sleep, Jeff and I awoke to our cellphone alarms at around 5:30. We both went about our preparations, walking around Jeff's half-lit apartment like ghosts. I had some cereal and a banana for breakfast, and after dressing and lacing up, Jeff's parents (who were in town for the weekends) wished us well and we went to catch the train.

There were runners on the train platform, more on the train, and larger volumes on the streets, tributaries and rivers joining to seek the ocean at Grant Park. We probably arrived at the park a bit past 7:00 and milled around for a bit. We made one last pit stop at the wall of port-o-lets and then headed for the 8:00 minute pace section, stretching along the way.

Once we had settled on a starting spot, any nervousness kind of melted away. It was replaced by the simple knowledge that I would be running for a long time and that running is something I am okay with. It was a very festive atmosphere, music playing over the loudspeakers and runners getting loose. There was a sense of belonging. Running a marathon might have been a crazy idea, but I was surrounded by people who were just as crazy as me. At least as far as running was concerned, these were my brothers and sisters.

The announcer came over the speakers to start the wheelchair participants, then the elite marathoners. Around 8:00, the line began to move forward and we began our march towards the starting line.

Jeff and I crossed the line and began jogging. And although we weren't thinking about it, the chips on our shoelaces activated and began their communication with some computer somewhere, recording our split times.

Let me start by saying that the first ten miles were great fun. We made casual conversation, Jeff pointing out notable Chicago sites as we weaved through the crowds (which weren't all that bad where we were). We were both in high spirits. Jeff threw a cup of water in my face at one of the initial water stops and when we saw our families at mile five I felt moved to blow them theatrical kisses. This sort of activity was maybe a bit naive considering the distance we had left to run, but we were at least enjoying ourselves. Also, during this first section of the race, I believe I logged my 500th mile of running for the year. Yikes.

After taking the first few miles pretty slow due to the heavier traffic, we settled into a nice rhythm, maybe a shade under 8:00 per mile. I was feeling very good and said as much to Jeff after we had gotten the first two of miles under our feet. He laughed because of how early in the race I was saying this, but my point was that in the last month or so, something in my legs, be it the knees or ankles, was usually in some level of discomfort even after a short distance. That wasn't the case Sunday, all systems were "go". Anyhow, by the halfway point, we were both cruising and on pace to hit 3:30.

I should mention here that the fans were incredible. I have always liked Chicago, the sprawling metropolis that retains a Midwestern charm, but after the 2008 marathon it will always have a special place in my heart. The marathon's slogan was "twenty-nine neighborhoods, one world class race" and the course indeed provided a good tour of the different areas of the city and their personalities. The one thing that was consistent was the enthusiasm from the spectators. Countless people lined the course, shouting, cheering, waving. Speakers were put in windows and pumped past advisable volume levels. A saw a guy with a garden hose in his front lawn, offering water to anyone who wanted some. There were cheerleading teams who sang to the runners. Paper dragons were held aloft in Chinatown.

Most impressive were the abundant handmade signs. A few of my favorites:
Chafe now, brag forever!
You are all Kenyans in my eyes. (there were a bunch of signs based on this general theme)
Your feet hurt because you're kicking so much ass!

The fans also provided encouragement and a sort of accountability as the race began to get tougher. After the halfway point Jeff and I both started to tire and became much less talkative. He at one point told me to go on ahead, though slowing down a little seemed much more appealing than forging on without an ally. However, we lost each other at one of the next water stops, probably between miles 16 and 17. I wouldn't end up seeing him until much later in the day.

Wayne had remarked maybe a month ago that I might find it challenging in the marathon to be running without music, since I had my iPod with me on most of my long training runs. At the time I figured that there would be enough external stimuli during the event to keep me pumped up, and while that was mostly true, Wayne made a good point. The running was definitely easier when I would pass by a band or a soundsystem (Icky Thump and Uptown Girl were highlights), though these occurrences were less frequent than the water stops. I guess the point of this paragraph is just that I really like music.

So I was less than ten miles from the finish line and feeling a bit overwhelmed. No Jeff, scarce amounts of music, and really I had no idea exactly where I was.

Also, I was getting tired. The Power Gel distribution zone at mile 18 was a welcome sight and this time I had no problem ingesting said substance. I needed it. I began changing my behavior a bit too. After generally alternating between water and Gatorade at the handout locations, I started making sure I snatched cups of both, and walked through the stops to make sure I was getting all of it into my body (and to try and reassure my flagging spirit). I tried to stride out and push any pain into the recesses of my mind, and for a while I think it worked, though it soon became too real to just ignore.

From the 20 mile mark onward, a lot of my memories run together. The night before the race I had written my donors' names down my arm. I tried to devote a minute or so of thought/prayer each mile for a particular donor (there were 27, which was convenient), but at this point it was difficult to read from my sweaty arm, concentrate enough to think about anything besides the race, or even to do the math to find out whose name belonged to the current mile. Bananas made their appearance around mile 20, cut into easily opened sections. This was a welcome development, but my water breaks became increasingly drawn out. I had started the race cheerfully hopping on any nearby non-crushed empties, but now just walked disheveled through the fields of discarded cups, with more of an effort required each time to start running again. At one point I halted my progress for a bathroom break, more because I wanted a rest than out of necessity. I also tried stretching for a few seconds, but it was a halfhearted attempt and I didn't want to lose much time, so I kept going.

By the time I reached the 22-23 mile range, I had slowed down significantly. The course made one of its last turns onto Michigan Avenue, a grueling, nearly three mile stretch. My feet felt like shredded tires and once in a while my left quad felt as if it were starting to seize (this was a very unfamiliar pain). I don't recall ever feeling that broken. I tried translating the remaining distance into lengths that I was familiar with back home, but it still felt so distant, like the finish line was one I would asymptotically approach but never reach.

I began taking short breaks to walk, just because. There couldn't have been many of these and they couldn't have lasted for very long, but I really don't remember. Despite all of the logic and motivation remaining in my brain telling me how sweet it would feel after the race if I just kept running, there were times it felt impossible. And I was by no means the only one that had slowed to a stroll. It had by this time become a very hot day in Chicago. The one thing that I was able to repeatedly use to get my feet running again was the almost primal need I felt to get past the line in under four hours.

And somehow, the remaining mileage kept dropping, from four, to three, to two (though the encouraging shouts of the spectators sometimes conflicted as to the exact amount). Around this time, a runner nearby called out, "okay boys, shuffle it in," which at least got me to smile. I kept shuffling, almost oblivious to the growing number of spectators (this was truly the homestretch).

I was walking as I saw that the course was about to turn off of Michigan Avenue onto a slight incline. If I had studied the map more closely beforehand, I would have been aware that I was about to hit 26 miles. At any rate, I felt that I should try to run up the hill, so I picked my feet up and made the turn. I am glad I did because halfway up I caught sight of my family (I must have looked like a shell of my mile 5 self). As the road crested, the course made a 90 degree left and I turned to see the red finish banner and nothing between me and it but a gentle downward slope.

I think my face must have visibly brightened when I saw this. I looked around at my fellow runners, as if to say, "look, there it is, the finish line does actually exist!" I crossed the line at 3:53 and tried to manage a cool pose, but it probably didn't work.

So I had finished the marathon, but the finishing runners were encouraged to keep moving. As I walked I collected the following items: bottled water, a banana, a bagel, my medal, a strawberry cereal-type bar, and a bag of ice (which I placed on my head cause I saw others doing the same). For those who felt cold rather than hot, volunteers were passing out those silver emergency blankets.

I found a spot on the curb and watched people walk by as I ate my bagel (this took around twenty minutes). There were times I felt close to breaking down emotionally, and had I seen a familiar face I probably would have lost it. After finishing the bagel I stood back up (it should be noted that standing and sitting were now Herculean tasks), took a moment to make sure I had my balance, and kept walking. Past the runner equipment drop-off tent, past the fire engine that was spraying a cooling mist, until I finally reached the G-H kiosk at Butler Field, site of the after race party. I sat in the grass, with a view of the Chicago skyline, and continued to eat.

At one point I felt I should make an effort to stand up again. After doing so, I found myself back on the ground a few seconds later, with only a vague recollection of the intervening moments. Now, going in, if I had known I would have walked short sections at the tail end of the race, I probably would have been a little disappointed. But the fact that I nearly blacked out was a good indication that I left it all on the course, as the saying goes. I decided to keep sitting, even when my parents and sister arrived a couple of minutes later. They understood.

We shared some nice family time as I continued to not move, besides shifting the ice pack to different parts of my body. I told them about the race and they shared the experience of being spectators (which sounded pretty entertaining). Eventually Jeff's parents found us, but there was no sign of Jeff. It was not until I took the train back to his apartment (when my family and I parted ways) that I saw him. He had evidently come in about 12 minutes after me, and had been whisked off to 20 minutes of pampering by concerned aid volunteers after he showed some signs of fatigue after crossing the line. I am 100% sure there were people that needed assistance more than Jeff, but it made for a good story.

Back at the apartment, Jeff and I happily swapped tales for a while. I then showered, wolfed down some Quizno's that his parents brought back for us, and packed my belongings so that I could make my way to the Goetschs. I said my goodbyes and walked to the CTA station wearing my medal, like a giddy, satisfied dork.

So the statistics: I ran 26.2 miles in 3:46:37 (my true "chip" time based on when I crossed the starting line). Out of 31,401 finishers, I placed 4047th (which is hard to take in fully because I did not at all feel like I was that close to the "front" of the race). I am happy as a clam with how things turned out and glad I committed back in the younger days of 2008 to this experience. I am sure in the days and months ahead I'll be able to reflect more on the marathon, but for now I am content to have run well and finished. Marathon complete.

say a prayer for surfboy

This post may come across as a little uneven. A lot of loosely connected thoughts. I'm here at my friend Jeff's apartment in Chicago, a couple of hours before bedtime. I wonder how I will sleep.

We spent the afternoon downtown, picking up our numbered bibs and other giveaways at the Health and Fitness Expo (where I met up briefly with Dylana and her friends). It was a fun atmosphere, sweat-wicking fabric and energy drinks as far as the eye could see. I think it helped get me into a racing mood.

So here we go. There are definitely reasons I should be worried about tomorrow. I can't say that this is something I've done before. I haven't. And I can't say that my body hasn't let me down at all over the last few months. It has. But at the moment, my legs feel rested and ready to go. I made it to race day prepared and healthy, which was the goal of the training all along.

And really, if this were easy, there would be no point in doing it. I don't want this to feel like just another run, it's the 2008 Chicago Marathon! So in that sense, I'm excited. And it will be fun to run with Jeff. It's been just about a decade since we suited up in Bay's blue and white for the cross country state meet (I'd have never guessed we'd be running together in a marathon ten years later).

So it may be tough, but it sure won't be boring. And if you find yourself sitting at the breakfast table or in a church pew tomorrow morning and wonder what mile marker Hrubik's at, feel free to shoot up a prayer for him and his some 40,000 odd comrades.

hope in our hearts, wings on our heels

I set off for Chicago tomorrow afternoon, and it sort of feels like it's time.

After feeling overwhelmed earlier in the week, I've calmed down somewhat. I have been a bit preoccupied with a crazy week as I've tried to balance a healthy sleeping schedule with several early morning conference calls at work. I suppose the upside is that after this, the marathon might feel relaxing.

But mostly, I think my calm has its roots in my trying to have a better outlook on the race itself. Multiple people have told me that they think the race will be fun, and though they won't be the ones running, it's a good thing for me to hear. I ought to think of this as the grand capstone to my months of training instead of an obstacle.

After work today I went for my last training run, an almost comically short two miles. After some dinner I sat down for a viewing of Chariots of Fire to pump myself up for the weekend. I can understand if some might consider it a fairly boring movie, but it did win Best Picture back in '81. And some scenes give my goosebumps goosebumps. The beach running intro for sure, but also a segment three-quarters in, when Eric Liddell reads from the book of Isaiah over a montage of the Sunday Olympic heats:

Hast thou not known? Hast thou not heard? The everlasting God, the Lord, the Creator of the ends of the earth fainteth not, neither is weary. He giveth power to the faint, and to them that have no strength, He increaseth might. But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength. They shall mount up with wings as eagles. They shall run and not be weary. They shall walk and not faint.

Sounds good to me.

on the lighter side

I don't know if this is something common that happens to people when they start running regularly, but boy, I sure love Gatorade. In my mind, it's head-and-shoulders above its competition in the sports drink market.

One thing I do find kind of goofy though is the number of different product lines currently offered by the folks at Gatorade. A while ago, I thought it would be a fun activity to sample the different varieties and record my impressions. My running schedule paired with Giant Eagle's summer-long sale ($1 for a 32 ounce bottle) made it a relatively simple task.

So over the last few months I've tried a bunch of flavors and have chosen one from each product line to review. This includes standard Gatorade, Frost, Fierce, A.M., Rain, X-Factor, and G2. The categories I did not test were Xtremo (which I have never actually seen) and Tiger. Seriously, does Tiger Woods need his own line of Gatorade flavors? Does the guy even sweat?

Anyway, here are my findings. I used a four-star rating system.

Gatorade
Lemon-Lime

This is as far as I know the original flavor of Gatorade, and it's easy to understand how it has stood the test of time. A zesty initial rush of lemon is balanced by a mellow lime undertow, resulting in a pleasing, refreshing whole. No bells and whistles, just a solid (but not overpowering) flavor that hearkens back to a simpler time.

* * * of * * * *

Gatorade Frost
Riptide Rush

The purple color would seem to connote an attempt at grape, and while grape is (I think) the prominent taste involved, it is also enhanced by noticeable blueberry notes. It is an elusive flavor, clouded further by use of the word "frost" (is it supposed to taste colder?). But all mysteries aside, it's been a favorite of mine for a few years.

* * * of * * * *

Gatorade Fierce
Strawberry

This one is an all-out assault on the taste buds. Strawberry taken to its syrupy extreme, with a kick that seems to cling to the tastebuds and overstays its welcome on the palette. It tastes kind of like the fruit snacks I used to eat as a kid. I find this "Fierce" concept too intense and pretty abhorrent, but I don't know, maybe Generation Y loves the stuff.

* of * * * *

Gatorade A.M.
Orange-Strawberry

This product line is advertised as Gatorade, but with morning flavors. And indeed, though the label says "orange-strawberry", one definitely gets echoes of blended citrus juices, as hints of orange, pineapple, and tangerine combine to form a pleasant, tropical sort of medley. It comes off as very natural tasting (insofar as this is Gatorade we are discussing). A nice flavor, although it's a little too "Saturday morning breakfast" for my tastes.

* * of * * * *

Gatorade Rain
Tangerine

The "Rain" line of flavors is a really wonderful development, at the opposite end of the spectrum from the "Fierce" offerings. Like Gatorade mixed with rainwater, in a good (metaphorical) way. Tangerine carries a light, pleasing, popsicle-like flavor that ripples refreshingly over the tongue and finishes smooth. This and "Rain" Lime may be my favorites in the entire Gatorade stable.

* * * * of * * * *

Gatorade X-Factor
Lemon-Lime + Strawberry

I have no idea why Gatorade introduced an X-Factor line or what it is supposed to be. The lemon, lime, and strawberry flavors are all present here, but carry some extra baggage. My initial impression was that of salt, so maybe X-Factor contains X-tra electrolytes? An explanation would maybe help justify the flavoring, but without one, the taste is just a bit unnerving.

* of * * * *

Gatorade G2
Grape

G2 is Gatorade's low calorie line. This particular flavor features a layered, candy-grape type taste. It has a very dry finish. Pretty tasty overall, though it carries a little bit of the artificial tang that is typical of Gatorade's competitors (Powerade, Vitamin Water, etc).

* * of * * * *

So that wraps it up. Going forward I feel much more confident in my understanding of Gatorade's flavors and my subsequent Gatorade purchasing choices. For what it's worth.

"he's more machine than man now"

With yesterday's 8 miler finished, my training is pretty much done. Here's the schedule for week 18:

Tuesday - 3 miles
Wednesday - 4 miles
Thursday - 2 miles
Sunday - 26.2 miles

I guess that since the marathon is so much longer than any other race I've run, it makes some sense that I'm already starting to get nervous. But I'm hoping this week's short runs will give me a chance to find the swagger that typified the early stages of my training, even though it was coming largely from a position of ignorance. It was fun back then to have the feeling I was bulletproof, but I know better now. I am in shape, certainly, but also well acquainted with the fragile state of the human body. My once bionic legs now feel very weathered and may be ready to call it a year after Sunday.

I've put in the miles though, so that should lend me some grizzled confidence (if not a cocksure attitude, which may not be healthy anyway). There is nothing else I can really do to prepare this week, besides eating well and getting enough sleep. So I'll do that and do my best Sunday. There's nothing really to be afraid of, besides the pain and fatigue...

Deep breaths, Hrubik.

deep thoughts

A few years ago I started writing a short film called The Runner (Sreenath, if you are reading this, I have not yet given up). It basically follows a guy on a run while he shares his thoughts in voiceover narration.

The irony is that, though I often think that I will be able to ponder deep thoughts as I run, it's hard to muster the necessary focus for that kind of activity. My thoughts never go much further than how I am feeling, or the environment/scenery/weather.

Not that this is a bad thing. In fact, it may be one of the fundamental reasons I like running.

In my daily life I often find myself busier than I think I should be. I flit like a moth between different tasks and activities, balancing demands and expectations of myself and others. Running is one way of disconnecting, it gives me the rare opportunity to just "be". While out on a run, my only responsibility is to put one foot in front of the other. There's not much else to think about, and like I said, not much else my mind can wrap itself around even if I wanted it to. I am at home in my own skin, using the limbs that are frequently dormant during the 40 hour work week. No business to attend to, no other problems to solve, just doing something I'm good at, something I like to do.

And really, I think it even goes beyond the simple question of like/dislike. By now, at this point in my life, running is part of who I am. Lacing up the sneakers, stretching, the after-workout Gatorade, these are all meaningful rituals. Though it involves a lot of movement and activity, a good run often lends a sense of calm and perspective, and in that way, though by the end of a jog I have "produced" nothing of significance, it is often the best possible use of my time. Perhaps the most accurate way to state my feelings is not, "I like running," but rather, "I am a runner."

I think I'm sort of rambling, so instead of trying to wrap this up in some concise way, I'll leave you with a video link that fits nicely. I have a soft spot for television commercials, cause the good ones are almost like little short films. And this is a pretty good one:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bdeEPhdpay0

a number of irrational fears

I ran an fairly uneventful 12 miles yesterday, ending in the CWRU neighborhood. Some fatigue, but nothing too concerning. The last couple of miles felt encouragingly swift, a reminder that the reservoir is pretty deep nowadays.

The marathon is just two weeks away now, so thoughts about the race are becoming less and less abstract. It's exciting to think I'll be a part of such a big event, and running in a race this size will definitely have some perks (as compared to my training runs). People will be cheering as I run past, I won't have to wait for traffic lights, and water will be freely handed out (no scavenging necessary).

For the most part though, thinking about the race makes me nervous. It's all too easy to imagine things going wrong. Here are a few possibilities:

a nervous breakdown
Is there a chance that, surrounded by thousands of other runners in a sprawling metropolis, overwhelmed with the task of justifying the last four months of training, I might freak out and break down right on the streets? Probably not. But I mean, maybe it could happen.

gastrointestinal stuff
In the words of Bob Wiley, "What if I'm looking for a bathroom, I can't find one, and my bladder explodes?" Having to use the bathroom has only rarely been an issue on my long runs, but my guess is that race day nerves could play a role on October 12 (in my high school CC days , I would often have to find a restroom before the race). While I'm sure there will be stations available before and during the marathon, for the sake of comfort, convenience, and my finish time, I would rather not have to worry about it. We'll see if my innards cooperate.

the wall
I think I had my first introduction to "the wall" at the end of last Saturday's 20 miler. If not "the" wall, I think the feeling of not being able to go another half mile can at least be characterized as some sort of wall. There are several reasons why the last six miles might not pose a huge problem. I'll be fresh from the last few weeks of relatively lower mileage, there will be ample opportunity for refreshments during the race, and everyone likes to throw the word "adrenaline" around. But still, the fact remains that this will be six miles more than I've ever gone before. And when running this far, the miles at the end are never the fun ones. This frightens me. But I suppose it's just a matter of believing that the training program has gotten me to the starting line in a state of preparedness.

At this point I realize that I don't know an awful lot about this Hal Higdon character, though he seems like an all-right guy. Hopefully his running schedules are the result of years of experience and consideration. At any rate, the time for research is probably past, nothing left to do but run.

morlock

Because of a lunchtime meeting today, I decided to get my four miles in before work for the second time during this training program. It is a surreal thing to be running (a) that early, and (b) that soon after waking up, and my dilapidated legs didn't really get the joke after eight miles Wednesday evening.

Running in the dark does make you feel fast, though. And it was cool to see other go-getters out exercising that early as well.

The darkness and low temperature this morning both served as reminders that, despite the persistently warm daytime highs, autumn is on its way. Soon I will start trying to catch falling leaves instead of letting low hanging ones brush my head as I pass (which for some reason always makes me feel like an ancient Olympian). I totally dig fall running, which as you might guess has a totally different feel than spring or summer running, and I'm happy that this whole endeavor is set to wrap up in what may well be my favorite month of the year.

penultimate

So yeah, the twenty miler...

In general, I felt pretty confident in the days leading up to Saturday's workout. My weekday runs were challenging, but largely pain-free, and I had logged a 19 mile run just a couple of Saturdays before. On the other hand, the 19 mile odyssey came on a day when I had no idea what my body was going to allow me to do. I wasn't expecting to go that far, so there was no dread associated with the distance. The 20 mile run being the capstone of the novice training program, I felt it important (if only mentally) to cover the full distance, and a lot can go wrong over 20 miles. So there were some nerves. I don't recall exactly, but I think my dreams the night before were running related (this is happening from time to time now).

Here's the road map:
http://www.gmap-pedometer.com/?r=2278703

Some notable happenings:

mile 8
I used the BP restroom at the Columbia intersection, then stopped at the McDonald's a couple minutes later for water after consuming my "vanilla" Clif gel. Not wanting to wait in the long line to acquire some tap water, I went over to the soda fountain and repeatedly filled and drank from a paper ketchup container. Though I wasn't really doing anything wrong, my behavior felt very shady and roguish, so as soon as I felt sufficiently hydrated I scampered out of the building and continued on my way.

mile 13
Running down Hilliard, a large bug flew deep into my open mouth. For a few moments it felt like there was something acidic stuck in my throat. I was able to eventually gag the insect out of my body, but the minute or so afterwards was moderately nauseating.

mile 15
I saw the Rosenaus (Greg's parents) exiting a parking lot in their car as I neared Joe's Diner. It was nice to exchange some waves, but as they drove away I felt alone and deserted in Rocky River, like I had missed a golden opportunity to hitch a ride home.

mile 17
As I approached a low, thick tree branch overhanging the sidewalk, I ducked, but apparently not very well. Not enough to avoid a jarring impact between the tree and my skull. I didn't realize until I was home that the top of my head was bleeding.

Even overlooking the odd mishaps, this was a tough run. I was pretty tired by mile 15 and running on fumes by the time I got to Lakewood Park. You'll notice from my route that I stopped at W 112th, about a half-mile shy of my apartment building. At this point my legs were screaming for some relief and I figured I had already passed the 20 mile mark (though in reality I had just barely reached it). I walked the rest of the way home, retrieved some Gatorade from the apartment, and hobbled back out to the front lawn. I sat in the shade and drank around 30 ounces of Gatorade, while my hands, forearms, and face started tingling (sheer exhaustion?). After a while I headed back inside to tend to my head wound.

It's a little worrisome to me that, whether true or not, I felt that I could not run that last half mile. It would have been reassuring to get to the end of the workout feeling like I could have done a bit more. I guess now that the injury pain has subsided, fatigue is back in the spotlight, and boy, that was real fatigue. But though my body may have been ready to fall apart, I completed the 20 mile run at a quick pace (2:37 with a bathroom break and four water stops), and that's something I wouldn't have predicted a few months ago. I've planted my flag in the sand and now get to enjoy a few weeks in an oasis of tapering until race day.

natural socks

I had the idea for this picture some time ago, but thought that I should wait through the summer so that the clearest line possible could form.















The image may not capture the full effect, but you get the idea.

Though I've been focused mainly on the health of my legs these past few weeks, I'd like to give my feet some eprops. I have asked a lot of them over the last few months and they (obviously) haven't had a lot of opportunity to see the sunshine. I have come to dread the time after my Saturday runs when I have to remove my socks and survey the status of my toes. I went through a period of fighting blisters on my left foot, but that seems to have passed now. At the moment I've got a right pinky toenail about to come off, and three on my left foot at different stages of bruising. Luckily, I took the photo above before any of these developments.

rockin' the suburbs

Today's run was close to 15, from Cleveland proper through Lakewood, Rocky River, Bay Village, and a few feet into Avon Lake, almost totally on Lake Road before heading north to my parents' place. When I started the rain was steady but light, but by the end I was in the middle of a downpour and soaked to the bone. Usually, even on rainy days, there is a difference between the front and back of one's shorts. Today everything was saturated. It was like James Taylor's Fire and Rain, but without the fire.

During the week I figured I'd try a longer run without my iPod, and the rain kinda forced that to be the decision. It was probably good for me to make the journey without the benefit of music (which I think helped a bunch last week). And if nothing else, I am more prepared now to run longer distances in the rain. Nothing like getting to the point where you realize it doesn't matter anymore if you try and avoid the puddles. I just hope the kicks dry out before Tuesday.

So, a week away from the 20 miler and just four weeks from the marathon itself. I think I can objectively use the term "homestretch".

fun facts

Some selections from the "marathon" wikipedia entry:

The name marathon comes from the legend of Pheidippides, a Greek messenger. The legend states that he was sent from the town of Marathon to Athens to announce that the Persians had been defeated in the Battle of Marathon. It is said that he ran the entire distance without stopping and burst into the assembly, exclaiming "Νενικήκαμεν" (Nenikékamen, 'We have won.') before collapsing and dying.
There is debate about the historical accuracy of this legend.
(author's note: I do not expect do die, I will be wearing Asics.)

The men's world record represents an average pace of under 2:57 per kilometer (4:45 per mile; 5.6 m/s).
(author's note: I have never run this fast for a single mile.)

Most male elite marathon runners will have weekly mileages of over 100 miles (160 kilometres).
(author's note: Next week will be my peak, and I am scheduled to run 40 miles.)

Some runners will wear an ice vest before the race to reduce their core temperature so as to avoid overheating later in the race.

While drinking fluids during the race is necessary for all runners, in some cases too much drinking can also be dangerous. Drinking more than one loses during a race can decrease the concentration of sodium in the blood (a condition called hyponatremia), which may result in vomiting, seizures, coma and even death.

Carbohydrates that a person eats are converted by the liver and muscles into glycogen for storage. Glycogen burns quickly to provide quick energy. Runners can store about 8 MJ or 2,000 kcal worth of glycogen in their bodies, enough for about 30 km/18-20 miles of running. Many runners report that running becomes noticeably more difficult at that point. When glycogen runs low, the body must then burn stored fat for energy, which does not burn as readily. When this happens, the runner will experience dramatic fatigue and is said to "hit the wall".

Due to the stress on the body during a marathon, a person's kidneys can shut down, leading to the accumulation of toxins in the blood.

It is relatively common to only come to realize that there are injuries to the feet and knees after the marathon has finished. Blisters on the feet and toes commonly only become painful after the race is over. Some runners may experience toenails which turn black and subsequently detach from the toe.

I am looking back on a week that was in many ways encouraging. During my visit Monday, the doctor didn't seem too concerned about the status of my hip and gave me the green light to keep training. He gave me an anti-inflammatory prescription, which I may or may not fill depending on how my next few runs go. My three weekday workouts went relatively smoothly. I am still dealing with some pain, but definitely not to the point of limping, like the middle of last week. It seems that once I've run a few miles, the situation is under control. And if this is the way it will be from here on out, I can deal with that.

During the dejectedness of last week, there were moments when I questioned why the apparent betrayal of my legs was coming at such an inopportune time. But looking over the quoted sections above, maybe my question should have been, "how did I go so long without any sign of injury?" Marathons are insane!

out of the miry clay

My plan for Saturday was to test out the hip and stop if it got too painful. I thought up a route that would get me back to the apartment at the 7 and 15 mile marks, in case I needed to stop or walk home. I pretty much followed my typical Saturday preparation routine, but figured the chances of me actually completing the scheduled 18 miles were pretty slim. Like, 4% or something small like that.

And sure enough, a half mile in, my hip started to flare up. It looked like it would be a short jog. But, as I kept going, aside from a few moments of sharper pain, I began to wonder if the more even, dull discomfort I was feeling was something that I could work through this time around. I decided to try and make it 7 miles.

At the five mile mark at Lakewood Park, I finally decided to the try the Power Gel that I have toted with me in the past but had always shied away from ingesting (mostly because of warnings from anyone I knew that had used it). How to describe this stuff? I think this exercise will help (but really this gel tasted like it came from another planet):

1) Imagine what flavored yogurt tastes like.
2) Think about what it would taste like if someone did to yogurt what Doritos did to chips.
3) Remove any dairy component from your imagined substance.
4) Warm it up.

Pretty weird, extremely gross. All that said, I think it provided a boost. By that time, my hip was inexplicably feeling much better, and it was pretty much at pre-injury status by mile six (!). So I kept going, towards downtown.

It should be mentioned that I was powering through some My Chemical Romance songs at this point. It sometimes makes me feel like an eyelined, nail-polished, angsty teen to listen to them, but at this point, whatever works. Welcome to the Black Parade has been added to my official "good running songs" list.

Once I got downtown, I added a bit of distance to the route, so that I wouldn't feel as compelled to run into Edgewater to complete the mileage if I felt too tired once I was back on the west side. But when I did get back, I felt decent enough to head into the park, figuring that I would stop at the lower area and not run back up the park's main hill. But once there, I felt like I should at least get to the top of the hill. And once I was up there, I thought I might as well just run home. So I did.

http://www.gmap-pedometer.com/?r=2240016

As a child, a series of commercials for a Time-Life book series called Mysteries of the Unknown used to scare me out of my wits. They would show dramatizations of supposedly paranormal incidents as an ominous sounding narrator would describe each event and intone, "how do you explain this?"

So, in that spirit...

...and how do you explain this:
A man, unable to run more than three miles on a Wednesday morning due to a balky hip, is able to cover over 19 miles just three days later.

The effect is more pronounced if there is creepy music playing, but the fact remains: I went from hobbling a humbling few miles on Wednesday to yesterday casually ripping off by far the longest distance I have ever run. I cannot explain it, so I'll just accept that it happened and say, "thanks, God". Maybe the doctor will have some additional insight tomorrow. I was feeling pretty down in the dumps about my health earlier this week and how it might affect the marathon, so yesterday's workout came at a great time. It feels like things are back on track. Prayers would be appreciated as I'm sure there's a chance the injury could return, but for one day at least, running was fun again.

parklife

A quick post-vacation entry...

Though I took a few days off of work around the Labor Day weekend, running maintained its dogged, zombie-like presence in my daily life (but at least with a change in scenery). My Saturday workout took place in Central Park (New York, New York), with Andrew joining me for the first five or so miles. It was a pretty sweltering day, but the pleasant environment and gentle rolling hills allowed me to mostly ignore the occasional barks from my hip and knee. I covered 11+ miles, followed by a cold water bathtub soak.


















Things went south at the beginning of the week. By Tuesday I was staying with Dan & Meagan in Brooklyn, so I headed over to Prospect Park, just a couple of blocks from their apartment. Before I began, I felt that my legs had fully rebounded from Saturday's run. Alas. A few miles in, after stopping briefly to look at a park map, I felt a noticeable hip-based limp in my stride. I decided to call it a day. I tried running again the next morning, but again managed just three miles (instead of the prescribed nine).

So it's September and the pain in my hip has reached the point that it has cut into my training mileage. As I sit here typing this, it seems like I should have been able to push past the discomfort, but the situation is entirely different when I am actually running. Bad enough that I felt the need to schedule an appointment with a doctor for next week. I'll probably give it a go on Saturday, but 18 miles seems like a much longer distance than it did a couple of weeks ago.