The Sound Mind, Sound Body Sound Off

9:30 AM - Westboro - 6 miles, 42:00.
7:30 PM - BSC - Bike, 35:00.

I had hoped to squeeze in both of my workouts before work today, but my hair cut ran a little long and I only had time for six miles and a solid stretch before looking at the Asics line somewhere around the 11 o'clock hour this morning. Neither workout is worth rambling on about, but I did work the three hills pretty hard during my run this morning and I'm no worse for the wear as I write this entry. As expected, my legs and lungs weren't on the same page but my lungs felt fantastic and my legs felt like lead and that, quite honestly, was a bit of a surprise.

No big surprises in the Asics line today though, as a lot of the old stuff simply has a brandy new number after it. Heck, if it ain't broke, don't fix it, or at least don't mess with it too much. Asics, for the most part, does a pretty good job of this. Here's a few quick quips on what Shalane's dad had to show us.

Kinsei 2. Same ugly shoe, new uglier colors. The best upgrade Asics could make to this shoe is just to get rid of it altogether. It's a waste on many levels: ridiculously expensive, ridiculously ugly and a ridiculous excuse for a functional running shoe.

Kayano 15. Only one noticeable change here, that being the addition of an asymetrical overlay right across the middle of the forefoot, making for a tighter fit up front than classic Kayano wearers may be used to. It will be interesting to see how this will be received, as a similar stunt in the Nimbus 10 didn't go over so well.

Nimbus 11. Ch-ch-ch-changes. A couple worth noting, anyway. The biggest being the elimination of the asymetrical overlay in the forefoot that had many Nimbus 10 wearers going to a wider width or a 1/2 size bigger altogether. It was a change that needed to be made and has this shoe fitting more like Nimbus 8 or 9 than the current version of this cloud. Change # 2 is conservatively cosmetic. Asics actually toned down the look of this shoe, making the primary color a very white white with a touch of basic blue. Think along the lines of the cosmetics of the Kayano 13. They've also taken out the PHF stitching across the entire line, making the collar seemless and softer than every before. Add in a layer of memory foam on the inside of the tongue and this already plush shoe is going to give the Michelin Man a run for his money.

Cumulus 12. This cloud didn't change much, and that's a good thing. Despite a forefoot sans overlays, this shoe fits the snuggest of the core neutral trainers. That said, it's not super snug. My ugly bunions had plenty of breathing room up front.

Gel 3010. The 3000 was a nice addition to the Asics line last year and the new version doesn't disappoint, either. This shoe basically splits the difference between the 2140 and Kayano, and not by much. Think of it as the 2140 on steroids. The posting is very similar to its little brother, but there's a dynamic cradle that extends to the forefoot, addressing the needs of that late stage overpronator. This shoe is a little lower to the ground than both of its brothers, but it's a bit softer and fits snugger than either of its siblings.

DS Trainer 14. Love, love, LOVE this shoe. They finally got the DS Trainer right again after two terrible versions of what has traditionally been regarded as the best lightweight performance trainer on the market. The sizing has been fixed, it's no longer running a half size too small. Asics hasn't messed with the tooling all that much, but they have cleaned up the upper and fixed forefoot, leading to a racing flat look that feels fast on the feet. No price change, either. All the more reason to love it.

2140. It's already in the stores, but no changes to The Franchise for fall 2009 other than an additional colorway. The current version is sleeker and softer than the 2130, but hasn't been messed with much. Now weighing in at $100 though, which has been the trend amongst shoes in the stability category.

Evolution. Looks like any evolving will have to wait a while with this shoe, as the only changes made were to the colorways. A solid stability shoe to the highest degree, but it's no Beast. Then again, as my rep put it, "the Beast barely classifies as a running shoe."

Landreth. Same wide-open forefoot, widest of what Asics has to offer in the cushioned category. Not as plush as the the clouds it gets grouped together with, but responsive enough to hold it's own as a solid everyday trainer.

Racing flats. Bandito hasn't changed, neither has the Hyperspeed other than some fancy shmancy new colors. The Piranha hasn't changed much, but then again how much can you change on a shoe that barely weights 4 ounces. As for the cross country spikes, the new Dirt Dog and Dirt Diva are running a full half-size bigger than last year and will have to do without the rubber plugs for 2009, as those suckers had trouble staying in their respective holes.

Yeah, that's what she said.

Training Trifecta

11:40 AM - Auburn - 6 miles, 44:00.
3 sets of drills on turf mid-run w/200m stride on the track in between sets (34.49, 34.02).
2:25 PM - BSC - Weights, 30:00.
3:05 PM - BSC - Bike, 45:00.
7 x 2:30 out of the saddle @ 80-90% effort w/2:30 seated recovery.

Foreword: I'm allowing myself no more than 20 minutes to write this entry. Aaaaaaaaaaand go.

Solid day on the training side of things as I had the day off from work and all kinds of time on my hands. It's a nice luxury for sure, but a rare one. I'm very happy to have taken full advantage of it.

There was nothing special about any of my workouts today, but it did feel good to hit the track this morning and get a small taste of speed with a couple strides in between sets of drills. The idea was to just open up the legs a bit, and I figured I could keep things under control and run 5-minute pace without breaking stride. As luck would have it, I had the wind at my back and as such it was smooth sailing around the turn and into the straightaway. The times were a couple ticks faster than I expected them to be but the effort was right where it should have been.

And that concludes the training talk portion of today's entry. I've been racking my brain for things I should, could or might want to talk about for the better part of a week now and I came to the harsh realization that I don't have the mind-boggling mileage of this guy, the musical mind of this fella or the mindless back-n-forth banter of these two clowns. I do, however, have a dorky obsession with running shoes and ironically enough it happens to be the start of the Fall 2009 selling season in the world of specialty running retail. Rich and I have already looked at Saucony, tomorrow we've got Asics, Brooks rolls in on Thursday and every other vendor under the athletic shoe umbrella will make their presence felt sometime between now and the early part of 2009. It's easily the most wonderful time of the year for a specialty running store. With eight different vendors to look at, it's like Hanukkah for a Shoe Guy.

Bottom line, quite literally, is I'll do what I can within the constraints of confidentiality to share with you, my readers, what's hot and what's not in the running shoe world of the future. Stay tuned.

Mario & Bob's Excellent Adventure

11:40 AM - WB Rail Trail - 7 miles, 1:01:00.

I wish I had a camera with me this morning as Hodgie-San and I navigated our way along the wind-battered West Boylston Rail Trail. The carnage was almost comical as we avoided obstacles every couple hundred feet for about 3-1/2 miles, at which point we retreated to the road for the remainder of the run. The overall pace of the run was easy peezy lemon squeezy but the gymnastics involved in getting over, around and through the busted branches that tattered the trail were in fact quite a challenge. I'm almost tempted to log it as cross training.

Slow pace aside, this was my longest run in 11 weeks and so far, so good. No pain in my butt and overall everything is holding up incredibly well. I'm a very happy runner right now. To ensure that I stay that way, I've made an appointment at Central Mass Physical Therapy with a guy named Mike Roberts, who will look me over soup to nuts and hopefully help figure out why I keep cracking and how I can prevent it from happening again. Mike comes highly recommended by close friends and loyal customers and I am excited for my long overdue appointment at the ass crack of dawn on Christmas Eve morning.

I'm also excited for the third annual PR Running holiday extravaganza, which is now less than three hours away. And by extravaganza I mean a nice dinner with my co-workers somewhere other than crowded around a small folding table in the back room of the store. Time to clean up and look classy. Translation: take a shower and don't wear sneakers.

The Ice Man Cometh...

FRIDAY
8:20 AM - BSC - Bike, 45:00.
7 x 3:00 out of the saddle @ 85-90% effort w/2:00 seated recovery.

3:20 PM - Westboro - 5 miles, 36:00.

SATURDAY

7:50 AM - BSC - Bike, 1:00:00.
65-70% effort throughout. Drills in the gym afterward.

...and the Ice Man taketh away the internet at the 4-0 last night, making this update a day late. Please accept my apologies, but I doubt anyone was staying up past midnight waiting to read about spinervals or an easy run around Westboro. I hope no one was, anyway. If so, you really need to find a new hobby.

Oh well, nothing I can do about dime-sized raindrops and 60 mph wind gusts. Power lines, some houses and most every other inanimate object within striking distance of a tree didn't stand a chance. I actually saw some guy standing next to a big-ass ark on the side of the road trying to hitch a ride, for what it's worth.

Backing up a bit, yesterday was a good day for ducks, and that's about it. Everyone else was pretty much shit out of luck. Definitely not a good day for runners - not before noon time, anyway - which is exactly why I waited until 3:20 to put my shoes on and antagonize the asphalt for a little over half an hour. It didn't help that I was cramped for time before work, either, but it did help that we had a third body around at the store, allowing me to sneak out for a 36-minute tour of the town. Ah, the luxuries of working at a running store.

Today was about as interesting as 60 minutes on a stationary bike can be. Nope, that's not saying much, but it is saying more than USA Track & Field has about the results of this afternoon's National Club Cross Country Championships which ended some, oh, eight hours ago. Word on the street is the ladies of New Balance Boston snagged second in the team race, the lady Unicorns of the BAA grabbed third and NBB's own Rebecca Donaghue won the whole enchilada to cap off a solid New England showing. As of 10:31 EST, however, that's nothing more than an educated guess because there's still no trace of anything remotely resembling official results floating around anywhere in cyberspace. Way to go, USATF.

Better late than never

10:55 AM - Westboro - 6 miles, 43:00.
Drills and strides in the parking lot afterward.
12:00 PM - BSC - Weights, 30:00.

Had the luxury of a late start at work today so I was able to get in a solid session this morning without rushing around. Of course, I still managed to waste more time than I should have leaving the house and skipped out on the 30-minute spin I was planning on post-run, but I can live with that for now.

I'm trying to make a real effort to keep consistent with doing drills on a regular basis from here on out. I haven't been doing anything too technical or fancy, just three sets of high knee skips, kickouts, backward running, quick feet, butt kicks and side-to-side shuffling, followed up by a few 15-20 second strides. The whole routine takes about 10 minutes and I hope to do it three times per week. That's 30 minutes per week and two hours per month more than I was doing. Heck, that's a whole day's worth of drills over the course of a year. I'm hoping it helps with form, efficiency and all that good stuff.

Weights are another new addition to my weekly routine. I had been hitting them three times a week for the past 8 weeks but now that I'm back to running regularly I'm scaling that back to twice. No, I'm not worried about turning into Mr. Universe, but two sessions a week - Mondays and Thursdays - fit nicely into my schedule. The whole circuit takes 30 minutes, so there goes another two days of my year right there. If it helps keep me injury-free, however, it's well worth the laughable looks I get from the meatheads in weight room when I'm squatting the bar, benching a big 65 pounds or curling a dumbell that pales in comparison to the size of some of these guys' morning turds.

Sorry for that vile visual. Disgustingness aside, I feel good about the direction things are heading. Let's leave it at that.

Lastly, I wanted to plug an outstanding article in the latest issue of Running Times, but it's already after 11 PM and I promised myself I'd get to bed at a decent hour tonight so I'll be brief and boring. Scott Douglas penned a piece on six lessons he's learned in 15 years of close contact with elite runners. He couldn't have hit the nail on the head any more squarely, and that's all you're getting out of me. Now go to your nearest newsstand and spend the $4.99. It's well worth the scratch.

A new spin

8:25 AM: BIKE, 1:00:00.

Easy hour on the spin bike this morning before work as I had no designs on running today. I woke up feeling spry after a solid night of sleep and felt pretty good on the bike as a result. I've been dragging a bit the past two weeks or so, mainly due to poor sleeping habits and negligence toward nutrition, hydration and taking my vitamins. I need to recommit myself to doing the little things necessary that will make the big things possible.

As mentioned in my previous post, today marked four weeks since I started running again. Now that I've got a month of pain-free running under my belt, it's time to start turning an eye toward training again and not just covering ground. Of course, there's no need to rush anything, either, so it will be a gradual reintroduction to running fast when necessary. I still need to sit down with Kevin sooner than later and map out a plan of attack for the next few weeks, months, years and figure out the best route to the starting line of the 2012 Olympic Trials Marathon, all while keeping the road blocks to a minimum. I've run into more than my share of them since 2004 and quite frankly I'd like to avoid them from here on out, otherwise it might be time to keep this car permanently in park.

But enough about me. Before I forget, I'd like to wish the best of luck to the ladies of New Balance Boston, their bodyguard Justin Lutz, and the rest of my Boston-based buddies heading out to the Evergreen State for Club Nationals this weekend. I'd express my jealousy, but c'mon folks, this is Spokane, Washington in December we're talking about here. Not that last year in West Chester, Ohio was anything to write home about, either, but I digress. Who the hell picks these places anyway?

Overdue excitement

So I've got some super exciting news and as of this posting it's exactly four weeks overdue. I'm slacking, I know. Big shock there.

No, I didn't win the lottery, I'm not getting hitched and there isn't a running shoe being named after me anytime soon. No, no such drama or imagined excitement making its way into Mario's mundane world. I am running again, however, and I couldn't be any happier about it. After seven weeks devoid of meaningful forward motion I'm back in the game and feeling good.

I started on November 12 with 10 minutes of slow slogging every other day and have progressed to the point where I'm running -- jogging, really -- 30 to 45 minutes comfortably and pain-free four to five times per week. It's been a nice change from the stuffy solidarity of the spin bike at the gym. I will, however, keep spinning the wheels a few times a week as I think it will aid my recovery efforts and keep my injuries to a minimum. That's the hope, anyway.

I'm also hoping to get this blog off the ground again for the 54,321st time, so I will start posting my daily training again soon, maybe tonight if I can get my ass in gear. That's right, training, not just the day's running or biking totals. The goal is to get back on the track in 2009. It's been a long time coming and my track PR's have been around way too long for my own liking.

And let's not even get into the irregularity of my updates around here of late. I'll just chalk 2008 up to being a down year. Anyway, here's to fast times and frequent posting as we head into 2009. Godspeed.

Pat on the back

Pat Tibbetts, this entry is for you.

It continues to amaze me the people who stop by and read this thing, nevermind the fact that people still actually stop by and read this thing at all, so in the spirit of giving, well, here you go.

So who is Pat Tibbetts? All you need to know is he's a customer of mine, he runs in the Asics Kayano and he stopped by the store yesterday and asked me how my healing was coming along. His inquiry threw me for a bit of a loop since I only see Pat every 400 miles or so, but it was a nice gesture on his part and served as a reminder that anything you need to know about me - as far as running goes at least - is public knowledge.

Which is fine. That's why I have this blog. And I plan on keeping it going, even if I don't update as regulary as I would like, in hopes that I can keep people informed and more importantly, entertained. Hey, I aim to please.

For now, however, I've got to please the running masses around Westboro and go open the store for what is sure to be a Sunday slamming for the Rich Guy & I. More later.

Maybe.

People are strange

The gym is strange place, chock full of weird people, and yours truly is apparently no exception. I get a lot of funny looks, anyway.

In the last 8 weeks I've become a bit of a gym rat because, basically, I've had nothing better to do. Seriously. The alternative - sitting on my ass - would be neither advisable nor entertaining. Sitting on the spin bike at the gym, however, now that's advisable, not to mention wildly entertaining.

Take this comical encounter from a couple weeks back, for example. I jump on my usual bike, plug in my headphones and get down to business. After a few minutes of pedaling I started sweating. Can you believe it? Beads of sweat actually forming on my brow and dripping toward the floor. You'd think it was raining in Death Valley the way one worried woman reacted to my workout.

"Are you OK?" was the inquiry aimed my way after I flipped off my headphones in anticipation of exchanging pleasantries with someone I assumed was just another customer trying to get my attention.

"Yeah...I'm fine," I responded before taking a seat and a much-needed breath. "Why?"

"You look like you're in pain," she informed me.

"I am," I said, before flipping my headphones back on and resuming my workout. God forbid you break a sweat and refuse to read US Weekly on the recumbant bike.

Fast forward to today. Same spin bike, a little less intensity on my part, which means more time for me to take in the scenery rather than focus on my own half-assed effort for the day. I look toward the treadmills and what do I see but a guy running. No surprise there, that's what people do on treadmills. Except this guy was running with 2-1/2 pound weights in his hands! He must have been a long-lost alumni of Stonehill cross country, because the only guy I've ever known to condone - even encourage, in fact - this sort of behavior was old Chieftain coach Dana Boardman. I should have asked the guy on the treadmill if he ever practiced visualizing running like a cantelope through an open field at any point of his adult life. (Ed. Note: Unless you ran cross country at Stonehill under ODB and crashed the team van on your first day of practice, partook in Run Like a Kenyan day, tackled Vinny's hill or experienced running on 6 inches of woodchips, you have no idea what I'm talking about.)

And there's more, like the guy wearing work boots on the stair climber, the woman singing to herself on the spin bike and the lady on the elliptical with the permanently-planted smile on her face. And let's not forget the Toby Keith wannabe in the weightroom who insists on wearing a cowboy hat to do his lat pulldowns. One of these days I'll bring a camera. Promise.

Burying the 'stache

The fella with the messed-up mustache pictured in the post below this one requested -- wait, begged and pleaded -- earlier tonight that I remove him from his perch at the top of my page. For the record, by hitting the PUBLISH POST button on this entry I'm not trying to appease him, not in the least. I'm saving the rest of you from having to stare at his frightening face every time you check in to the daily runaround.

Now that I've done my good deed for the day, let's talk training for a bit. Cross training, to be specific, since it's taken up a good chunk of my time the last seven weeks and looks to be a permanent part of my overall training program moving forward.

First things first. I haven't been killing it in the pool since the boo boo on my backside manifested itself on October 1. I've done one 2-hour pool run and treaded water for a solid 90 minutes this morning, but any other deep-water escapades have been in the range of one hour and have been few and far between. That said, I have been making more frequent use of the shallow end of the pool for 10 minutes worth of drills - high knees, quick feet, butt kicks, backward running - a couple times a week.

My preferred mode of non-impact aerobic activity is the spin bike. Honestly, I'm really starting to like that fucking thing. I've been getting in the saddle 5-6 times a week for 45-75 minutes at a whack, even attending organized classes Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday mornings to get a few organized harder efforts in. I like that I can stand up on the pedals and mimic running to some degree, put my heartrate through the roof and leave a sick puddle of sweat on the floor when all is said and done. My hope is that when I'm back to running regularly again on land I can make use of the Spinner 2-4 days a week in place of recovery runs and/or secondary workouts if necessary.

And, hold the phones, I've been lifting M-W-F for the last two weeks. All I'll say about that is the whole routine takes me about 30 minutes and I'm gonna be jacked before you know it. Justin Lutz better watch out.

Is any of this advancing my fitness? Time will tell, but my early guess is probably not and I'm OK with that. Seriously. I'm not putting in Ian Nurse-like hours in the pool or on the bike, but I am doing more than enough to stay less fat during my layoff and smooth the transition when I am able to return to running, which believe it or not is right around the corner. To say I'm about as excited as a pig in shit would be a gross understatement.

Public Blogging Announcement

As promised to him in person earlier today, I'm calling out Mark Driscoll to man up and join the blogosphere. For the record, this Public Blogging Announcement has the full support of his girlfriend, Katie Gwyther. She does not, however, in any way, shape or form support the mustache pictured below.


To speed this process along, however, I -- we -- need your help. Why? Because peer pressure's a bitch people. All parties involved in the Betterment of the Blogosphere, namely myself and KG, believe Marky Mark and his quick wit would make a great addition to your daily blogroll.

So how can you help? It's easy, my friends. Simply leave a comment or two here or flood MD's inbox at mpdriscoll-at-gmail-dot-com. Thanks!

Sneak peak

It definitely doesn't classify as training - hell, it barely resembled jogging - but I put one leg in front of the other today at a faster-than-walking pace about half a dozen times for 15-30 seconds at a stretch, and that, my friends, has me more amped up than this guy at a Radiohead show.

OK, that's more than a slight exaggeration, but I was pretty fucking excited to do something that looked like running, smelled like running and tasted like running and not have it feel like someone was shredding my left ass cheek with a machete every time my foot struck the ground.

So I know what you're all asking yourselves, because, yep, I'm just that good. Running, jogging or Gallowalking - whatever you want to call it - was I supposed to be doing it? Let me put it this way.

I liken today's foray into faster forward motion to sneaking into my parents' closet a few weeks before Christmas and getting an early look at the unopened presents I wasn't supposed to be looking at until they were put under the tree on Christmas Day. I didn't open anything today, but got just enough of a glimpse to know that if I keep being patient I'll be a happy camper when I finally get to pull the wrapping paper off in a couple weeks.

In the meantime, I'll continue to ride the bike, tread the water, pump the iron and get funny looks while I do my drills in the shallow end of the pool. Maybe I'll even start writing more, or more regularly, anyway. Actually, a former co-worker e-mailed me earlier today asking if I'd like to cover a high school football game on Thanksgiving morning. Not that it required all that much contemplation given my current condition, but leave it to Jim Wilson to let me know that I really didn't have a good excuse not to cover a game this year.

Perfect. We were bouncing around ideas today and I figured you might be in the mix, since I didn't see any "Fucked Up Pelvis Turkey Trot 5K" on the running calendar.

I can't argue with the man. While I was hoping to try and hold off this guy and his hard-charging younger brother at finish line of the Tri-Gobble for the second year in a row, I guess I'll just have to wait until next November to rob the flying McArdles of another $50. Then again, I'll be making $75 for this little gig, and the work is far less strenuous. Being injured sure does suck, but at least it's good for my wallet and less damaging to my ego.

New sheriffs in town

I don't update this thing nearly as often as I would like - and I make sure to reiterate that fact about every fifth entry or so - for no good reason, honestly. That's about it. I keep this shit up and I might have to start calling this thing the weekly runaround pretty soon.

In all seriousness, this space has two things preventing it from living up to its name. Three, if you also count general lethargy on the part of the author. You see, there's only so much shit I actually want to share with all of you out there in the blogosphere. Yes, that sounds stealthy, but that's by design. Number two, outside of running and the occasional instance of tomfoolery with friends, my life is pretty damn boring.

Hey, I'm having trouble believing it too, but that's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Anyway, seeing how I haven't run in almost six weeks now, what little content I did provide on a somewhat irregularly regular basis is now completely non-existent. Let's face it: no one wants to read about hour-long escapades on the spin bike and swimming in the shallow end with scantily-clad 70-year-olds. If I'm wrong about this please tell me and I'll try to make a better effort to share these stories with the viewing public.

Luckily there's been a couple new sheriffs in town to restore order in my absence. Their running cred far exceeds mine, not to mention their tremendous display of wit is worth a rousing round of applause in and of itself. So without further a due, I give to you the blog of a fitter, happier and more productive Keith Kelly, as well as the return of Tom McArdle to cyberspace. And for those of you unfamiliar with the original internet home of the Dartmouth Dandy, here's a small sampling of what I would waste a solid 10-12 hours a week dissecting my junior and senior years of college. If nothing else, the new version is an incredible grammatical upgrade from the original.

Enjoy.

Two thumbs up for change

Write away

Man, there's not much to write about when I'm not running, not that I actually write all that much when I am running, but what the heck, it's Friday, I ain't got no job and I ain't got shit to do.

Alright, so maybe it's really Sunday, as far as I know I still have a job and I'm pretty sure I've referenced the above movie quote somewhere else amongst these pages, but this ain't no time for fact checking, it's time for writing, so let's get to work. For a little while, anyway.

Today was the umpteenth running of the Mayor's Cup cross country races and as usual they didn't disappoint. The ladies of NB Boston tore up the team race, the men more than held their own and many of my other fast friends had killer days out on the course, and it was all very exciting to watch. I had a great time catching up with my 'mates and the many others who frequented Franklin Park on this incredible October day. I enjoyed taking it in and talking it up with everyone, and despite the disappointment of not racing I left the park encouraged, excited and eager to get back out there. This is a complete 180 from a couple weeks ago when I was discouraged, borderline depressed and ready to join a rec basketball league soon as my broken butt started to feel better. Luckily, I've adjusted my attitude -- not to mention my killer crossover still needs some work -- so it's probably best I put my hoop dreams off for at least a few more years, anyway. Plus, I'll be back schooling this guy in his driveway prior to Sunday long runs again before he realizes I've just nailed three straight fadeaway jumpers in his eye as my warmup to an 18-miler.

Injuries, frustrations and diminishing ball-handling skills aside, I feel extremely lucky to be in a good place surrounded by great people. Today served as another reminder of just how good this place is and how great those people are, so thank you guys.

Lastly, and speaking of great people, Rich and Jess had a baby girl yesterday, making me an 'uncle' for the third time in the last two years. I leave you with a couple photos of my newest 'niece', born Saturday afternoon at 2:09 and checking in at 20 inches and 7lbs, 3 ozs. She's a cutie.

After midnight musings

Now that I've got all this free time on my hands I've got no excuse not to be updating this space on a more regular basis. Keeping with the spirit of this blog, however, I'll continue to make those excuses anyway because, hey, consistency is the key to success in life -- no matter what form it takes.

That said, I've got no real desire to ramble on about anything because it's almost 1 AM and I really should get my inactive ass to bed. Of course, I've got no real reason to get up in the morning either, so let's see what I can come up with in the next few minutes.

There's been a big to-do in the news about the gal who "won" the Nike Women's Marathon last weekend in San Francisco, as Arien O'Connell ran the fastest time of the day but wasn't awarded the first-place prize because she didn't start in the "elite" corral. Pardon my elitist insincerity, but this entire situation has hilarity written all over it.

1. O'Connell had a PR of 3:07 going into the race, and as such she didn't feel she deserved a spot in the elite field. Good on her. 3:07 is far from an elite woman's marathon time.

2. The "elite" race was won in 3:06, which sorry folks, isn't much more elite than 3:07. O'Connell finished amongst the rest of the non-elites in 2:55, surprising herself and throwing everyone from race officials to newspaper columnists into a ticked-off tizzy.

3. "At this point we've declared our winner," Nike media relations manager Tanya Lopez said Monday after the race. O'Connell went home prize-less and is pictured with a pissed-off scowl on her face, presumably the result of being slighted by the Swoosh.

4. Note the snazzy Nike sweater O'Connell is sporting in the photo that ran with the article.

5. Two days after the race, Nike changes their tune, sends O'Connell an award and "decided to eliminate the 'elite' category in the annual San Francisco event and would let everyone start at the same time."

Race organizers could have just saved face, gave the girl a lifetime's supply of Rice-A-Roni and forgot any of this mess even occurred, but in the end, they decided to sing Kumbaya, eliminate the "elite" start and let everything else come full circle, which is worth chuckling at. The comments on the article take the cake though. I'll share a couple of my favorites before I head off to bed.

krwalsh - 10/20/2008 10:20:37 PM
Arien, get on the phone with New Balance, or Reebok, or anyone BUT Nike and get yourself a sponsorship deal, now. Any shoe company would buy the publicity that Nike is apparently willing to piss away. You win. Nike loses.

Sorry krwalsh, but not Nike, New Balance, Reebok or even Keds are gonna sponsor the girl.

albanyan98 - 10/20/2008 10:21:48 PM
At 8th grade graduation my name was left off the announced list of the top students in the class when I had the best GPA in the school. I've never forgotten it. Maybe if it had happened when I was older I would have handled it better. After that I just quit trying, dropped out of school, wrecked my car, picked fights in bars, got into drugs and finally overdosed on cough syrup at 9th and mission and now I'm in purgatory awaiting the final day of reckoning. See you in hell you stupid race organizers.

Best. Comment. Ever.

No news day

For those who are curious, I've got no news on the MRI front, except for a rescheduled appointment to 7:45 tomorrow morning because HMO's apparently exist on making things difficult for those who carry their type of insurance.

I won't even get into the load of BS I've been through the past couple days, but luckily I've got some great people working on my behalf and after jumping over this fence and running into that wall this thing is finally gonna get done, and more importantly, be covered.

And that's about it. Bay State is two days away and I'll be heading up there to give a good yell for this guy, this gal, this animal, this gal, as well as this guy and a whole host of others I wish I was joining for a 26.2-mile stroll around scenic Lowell.

No news isn't good news

Sorry I haven't updated this space in about a week but the fact of the matter is there isn't much to update. My left lower back/butt/hip are still jacked up despite hours of icing, e-stim, numerous adjustments, ART appointments and massages. On a scale of 1-10, walking yields a constant reading of 2-3 on the discomfort meter; any attempt at running, which hasn't exceeded 20 yards in the last week, and that number immediately escalates to 9-10. I had x-rays done on my back/pelvis last Wednesday, which, as expected, revealed nothing. I have an MRI in less than two days time and hopefully that sheds some light on this gloomy situation.

Given my lack of physical improvement since two Tuesdays ago, earlier today I decided to officially pull the plug on Bay State this Sunday. Let's face it, I can't run 26.2 yards right now, nevermind race 26.2 miles. My fitness is fine but trying to tough it out on a busted ass probably isn't best for what's left of my competitive career. I had a nice chat earlier today with Keith Kelly, my Reebok rep and race # hookup, who has suffered two stress fractures in his pelvis and one in his sacrum during a similarly injury-riddled post-collegiate running career. As sad as it sounds, it was comforting to share familiar frustrations with bad timing and bad breaks, both of the literal and figurative sort.

So what am I gonna do? Good question, and one I don't have an answer to right now. I know I need to get the MRI done and read, figure out what's wrong, why it happened and how to fix it. Other than that, I honestly don't have a clue.

Bummed out

About two months back I proclaimed that by the time October rolled around, "I'll either be in 2:24 shape or very very injured." Well, call me Moses because as of October 1 both of those prophecies came true, apparently at the same time.

As I was finishing a workout with my 'mates around the BC Res last Tuesday night I felt two things: elation at the ease with which I was able to execute the intervals, along with a sharp pain in my lower back - just above my left butt cheek - toward the end of the workout. The former feeling was quickly overtaken by the latter as I was forced to cut my cooldown short because of the sharp, stabbing sensation surfacing with every stride.

Bottom line is I haven't run in over a week, minus 2 measly miles on the grass at Balboa Park in San Diego this past Saturday. In the meantime I've been mixing water workouts with 60-minute sessions on the spin bike in an effort to maintain some semblance of the hard-earned fitness I've busted my butt for over the past 12 weeks. And yes, the pun there was indeed intended.

I'd best describe my mindset right now as optimistically pessimistic - optimistic because if we can get this thing figured out sooner than later I'm confident I can still run in the 2:24-range 10 days from now at Bay State; pessimistic because my current symptoms eerily resemble those of the stress fracture of two years ago and aren't improving efficiently enough to leave me feeling even the least bit encouraged.

At this point I'm just doing what I can do, controlling the things I can control and que sera sera.

I got something

OK, still no Reach the Beach race report, haven't posted a training log in a couple weeks and have just been pretty terrible about keeping this place current in general, but here goes something on a soggy Sunday in September.

Reach the Beach, in a nutshell, was the funnest 24 hours of running-related fun I've ever been a part of. As Captain Carrara put it, "there's nothing funner." Of course, it's always nice to win, too. Luckily, we had all our bases covered going into battle and everything came together for us at the right time.

Of course, preparation is key. We couldn't have done what we did without the help of 2 Chevy Tahoes, 20+ pairs of running shoes, 10 blinking lights, 6 reflective vests, 2 headlamps, a dozen bananas, 10 gallons of water, 2 lbs. of Swedish fish, 2 loaves of bread, 1 large bucket of GORP, a jar of peanut butter and a partridge in a pear tree. And most importantly, don't forget a dozen of funnest, funkiest-smelling, sleep-deprived runners to ever blaze the blacktop between Cannon Mountain and Hampton Beach.

Sadly, RTB '08 is over, but I am already looking forward getting down during the pre-race warmup (see photo below) and defending our crown next year with the same crazy contingent of Kitty Killers.

Anyway, on to the other topic of interest I've failed to touch on in the past few weeks, that being training. The numbers don't lie, and in the grand scheme of things they probably don't matter much, either, but the fact of the matter is I've been packing away the miles in the last month getting ready for this marathon that is now exactly three weeks away.

My last four weeks since the hammy went haywire in New Haven have totaled 71, 104, 80 (6 days), and 93 miles for the 7-day stretch ending yesterday. I've nailed a smattering of solid workouts in the last month, many of them with this guy, including a hearty hill session on Heartbreak, 25 magical miles on the roads of New Hampshire, a solid Squires long run on the trails, a few fantastic fartleks and most recently, a terrific 10-mile in-n-out tempo run on the track - yep, all 40 laps of it - in 53:34, alternating odd miles at 5:27-5:31 with the even ones at 5:11-5:16. Man, did I go adjective happy there. I'll stop now.

Kidding aside, I can say with confidence that my fitness is as good as it's ever been for a 26.2 miler. I've nailed my workouts with hammer-like precision, I'm recovering quicker than I have in recent memory and other than the niggle at New Haven, I've kept the health hiccups to a minimum. My resting heartrate is 5 beats south of 45 and I feel like a lean, mean, running machine. I don't weigh myself or keep tabs on my body fat, but when my grocery bill jumps 15-20 bucks a week, I'm pooping at least three times a day and I'm forced to pull my belt buckle back to the 4th hole so my pants don't fall off my ass, I don't need a scale to tell me I'm rounding into form. Take my word for it from past experience, there's no need to stress over a few pounds. When you're fit, they'll disappear just as quickly as that fourth belt loop does when you're not.

And that just about covers it for my own running-related ramblings of the past few weeks. Maybe - and you know how that goes around here - later this week I'll babble on about this morning's manifestation of brilliance in Berlin. That said, I'm off to San Diego on Thursday to visit this guy and his galloping-girlfriend-turned-fiance for a few days of much-looked forward to R, R & R - running, rest and relaxation - so that babble will likely be put on the backburner.

Hey, the thought's there, along with a 6-hour flight. We'll see what I can do.

Excuse me

Boy, do I suck at updating this thing. In my last post exactly one week ago I laid out these grandiose plans of updating this space more frequently - providing insights, pictures and all kinds of other new and exciting stuff on a regular basis.

In case you haven't noticed, I've failed miserably.

For the record, it hasn't been due to a lack of desire or editing interruptions. More an absence of free time and other unforeseen interruptions than anything else. A full-time job, 90-100 miles a week of running, recovering from those two time-consuming endeavors all the while trying to hold on to some semblance of a social life leaves less than enough time to plop my exhausted ass in front of the computer to release whatever shred of invaluable insight is left up there after a long day.

So if nothing else I'm full of excuses, for the time being, anyway. If I can't even come up with so much as a weekly training log, I'll try to offer at least a weekly excuse until I've got the time to saturate this space with something of substance. For now, however, bed comes before blogging, effective through October 19. Goodnight.

Testing, 1, 2

No, this isn't the Reach the Beach recap, but with any luck I'll have that sucker up by the end of the week. The idea behind this entry is to stretch out my stream of consciousness, something I have a bit of trouble doing when I sit down to fill this space. You see, here in lies the problem. I was an editor before I was a writer. Yes, it's about as backward as it sounds, but it's the truth. Too bad if you can't handle it.

So what's the problem with this reverse way of doing things? Simple. Editing inhibits writing, in my case anyway. In most cases editing in fact enhances writing, but when the editing prevents the writing from reaching it's full potential, you have a shitty piece of writing, even if it's grammatically correct and punctually sound. Too often when I sit down to spew my thoughts onto the screen I'm stopped dead in my thoughts to reverse, re-word or otherwise rework exactly what it is I'm trying to ramble about, and that my friends pisses me off. Why so? The Daily Runaround doesn't live up to his name - bottom line - and I oftentimes give up on an entry before it ever gets onto the screen. Such is the struggle of a perfectionist with an eye for errors.

Time to change that, or try to anyway. Less evaluating, more writing and hopefully more entries to keep everyone entertained. I'll sacrifice a few missed periods, misspellings or other minor miscues if it means I can wade through the muddle in my mind more efficiently and hit the Publish button on a regular basis.

And so far, so good. I'm pulling the plug on this entry at 20 minutes, and that includes a pee break, quick phone call and no major errors that I could pick up on with a quick once over. Next goal: RTB recap by the end of the week. Stay tuned.

Training Log: September 7-13

Sunday - AM: 17.5 miles, 2:00:00 with TJ $mith in Bridgewater. PM: 5.5 miles, 36:00 at Lake Park after work. Did two pickups of 6:20, 6:10 at PMP, finished with a mile on the track in 5:22.

Monday - AM: 10 miles, 1:14:00. 6 x 20/40 strides.

Tuesday - AM: 6 miles, 43:15. PM: 8.5 miles, 51:00. First mile in 6:51, then steady as she goes the rest of the way with an emphasis on working the hills. Last mile in 5:35. Solid effort in the dark.

Wednesday - PM: 6 miles, 44:00. PM: 6 miles, 42:00.

Thursday - AM: 8.5 miles, 1:06:00. Really dragging ass on this one.

Friday - 7:30 AM: 4 miles, 32:00 from the hotel with Ryan, Christy Mae and Yvonne. 4:50 PM: 12 miles. Leg # 2 of RTB, 8.9 miles in 50:35 (5:41 pace). 11:50 PM: 9.5 miles. Leg # 14 of RTB, 7.7 miles in 44:20 (5:45 pace).

Saturday - 7:20 AM: 10.5 miles. Leg # 25 of RTB, 9.3 miles in 55:15 (5:56 pace).

Totals: 104 miles, 12 runs. Solid week, first one at 100+ miles in over two years. Very happy to hit 37 of those miles at marathon-ish effort, and even more pleased that everything seems to still be in one piece as of this posting. I've been feeling really strong of late and my overall fitness is finally starting to come around.

As for Reach the Beach, it was the funnest running-related event that I've ever been a part of, not to mention a great marathon workout, and I'm thrilled to have been a part of the first co-ed team to pull out the overall victory. I'll post a separate entry on all that craziness when I get a chance.

Lots o' new stuff...

...coming soon!

Or maybe not so soon, but I swear it's coming sometime. Sit tight!

Training Log: August 31-September 6

Sunday - AM: 6 miles, 42:00. 6 x 20/40 strides on the way home.

Monday - AM: 10.5 miles. New Haven 20K (DNF). 41:27 for 7.5 miles. Hammy went haywire at 5.5, hobbled through the next 2 miles before calling it a day.

Tuesday - PM: 6 miles, 48:00 with Casey after work. Hammy a bit sore but otherwise no issues.

Wednesday - AM: 4 miles, 30:00. Hammy good - everything else, too, for that matter. PM: 8.5 miles, 1:00:00 with Old Man Willy at the Rail Trail.

Thursday - AM: 10 miles, 1:13:30 with Scott Graham around A-town.

Friday - AM: 4 miles, 30:00. 6 x 20/40 strides. PM: 12 miles, 1:15:00. 1-2-3-4-5-5-4-3-2-1 fartlek with equal recovery. 5-5:15 pace for the fast stuff, 6-6:30 on the recovery intervals.

Saturday - AM: 10 miles, 1:14:00.

Totals: 71 miles, 9 runs. Shitty start to the week, but salvaged it somewhat with a good workout on Friday. New Haven was a big disappointment but very happy that the hammy was back to normal by Wednesday morning. Didn't lose anything, but I've only got 6 more weeks to get where I need to be. Need to get my ass in gear. Now.

Not enough

Like Dave Matthews, I sometimes eat too much, but unlike the musical hero of the Abercrombie & Fitch generation, I apparently don't drink enough. That seems to be the consensus among the hydrationally-educated ones around me after an evaluation of my water/juice/milk/occasional beer method of fluid replacement. Mix in a less-than-adequate sodium intake, chronically tight leg muscles and an alignment even Midas would have trouble getting straight and apparently you've got a recipe for disaster.

Well, disaster struck on Monday, so the past few days have been focused on getting the relief effort off the ground. It started with introducing some massage, moved on to making some changes in my hydration practices and will continue tomorrow with some structural work on my fragile frame.

I've been running easy the past few days and so far, so good, but with a little less than 7 weeks to go until Bay State I really want to make sure I cover all my bases in order to avoid any future cramps, catastrophes or crapping out in general.

Is that too much to ask?

Laborious day

You can save yourself the aggravation and stop scanning the results, because you're not gonna find my name anywhere amongst the 2,090 finishers of this morning's New Haven Road Race.

No, this assclown didn't run off with my race number, and no, my chip didn't fall off somewhere before the finish line mat. My left hamstring went haywire somewhere around the 5-1/2 mile mark and despite two quick stops to stretch the sucker out and salvage some kind of result, I called it quits at 7-1/2 miles.

Shitty thing is that I was rolling right along until that shit hit the fan. Splits before I stepped off...

5:32.10
5:21.67
5:22.02
5:13.79
5:22.80
5:30.24
5:45.13
3:20.13

It sucks, but it is what it is, and hopefully it isn't anything serious.

Race Report: Chamberas 6K

"Always what I thought cross country should be all about. A group of runners meeting in some field some place and racing through ungroomed woods and fields."
- Ryan Carrara, two-time winner of the Thomas Chamberas 6K cross country race

I couldn't have summed the race up any better myself, not to mention this guy's won the damn thing two years in a row now, so who am I to argue with him.

Plus, he doubles as my training partner, so I wouldn't want to piss him off in the event he's feeling good on a Tuesday night hill session or a weekend workout. We've got enough of them left before Bay State and I don't wanna take a chance on getting an unexpected drilling, thank you very much.

Anyway, I will take a quick shot at wrapping up this past weekend's race in my own words. I'm a little strapped for time, so a few key adjectives will have to suffice for now.

Fast. Competitive. Technical. Raw.

And at the risk of reinforcing my reputation as an unoriginal bastard of the blogs, I'll now steal a full line from Jim Johnson and call it a night.

"You don't slow down to conserve or back off while thinking about pace....you just hammer."

Like I said, raw. Racing in it's purest form. No mile markers, no splits, no mercy. Real cross country, baby.

The Mahone Tone

This rendition of the Star Spangled Banner was even better live on Sunday morning. Just trust me on that, but click the link anyway for your own listening pleasure.

P.S. I swear it won't contaminate your computer, just your ear drums.

P.P.S. Race report by the end of the week. Maybe.

Flushed

I was going to post a race report today - really, I was - but I ended up getting a lot of other lingering shit taken care of instead. And tonight I had dinner with my sister Jayme, who arrived home in the wee hours of the morning from her first stint as the lead lighting techie on Carnival Cruise Line's Conquest. Plus, just as I was starting to feel good about the 91 miles I ran last week, I came across Nate's most recent training log and any motivation to write about my own running went right down the shitter. With a little luck it will resurface later in the week - my motivation, that is.

In the meantime, here's a couple pics from the race (courtesy of Jim Rhoades and Jim Johnson, respectively) to tide ya'll over.

Training Log: August 17-23

Sunday - AM: 17.5 miles, 2:01:30. Solo through Millbury and Grafton. Last 45 minutes a dehydrated death march.

Monday - AM: 6 miles, 42:25. 6 x 20/40 strides on the way home. PM: 6 miles, 44:00.

Tuesday - AM: 4 miles, 30:00. PM: 11 miles. 12 x 1:00 hills on Heartbreak with the Justins and Jen. Alternated sets of 3 between grass and road.

Wednesday - AM: 6 miles, 44:25. PM: 6.5 miles, 48:00.

Thursday - AM: 10 miles, 1:12:00. Felt a bit rough around the edges.

Friday - PM: 12 miles, 1:23:30. First 5 miles easy with SKinney, then 7 x 2:00 on/1:00 off @ 10K effort.

Saturday - AM: 7 miles, 51:00. PM: 5 miles, 36:00. 6 x 100m strides afterward.

Totals: 91 miles, 11 runs. Finally got the long run up over 2 hours and the overall mileage into the 90's, so I accomplished my two major goals for the week. Tuesday's hill session was short-n-sweet and Friday's fartlek was just enough to keep the wheels spinning heading into this morning's Chamberas 6K cross country race, which I will write about in detail tomorrow. New Haven's next up on the racing docket, so next week's log will be pretty boring - as if this one was all that exciting to begin with.

Training Log: August 10-16

Sunday - AM: 15 miles, 1:46:25 with A-Ten at West Hill.
Monday- AM: 7.5 miles, 57:45 on the bike path with Hodgie-San.
Tuesday - AM: 11 miles. 5 x 1 mile w/1:30 recovery with Ryan at the Morgan Bowl in Hudson. 5:02, 5:04, 5:05, 5:05, 5:01. PM: 6 miles, 45:00 with Casey at West Hill.
Wednesday - PM: 9 miles, 1:07:30 with Casey in Westboro.
Thursday - AM: 13.5 miles, 1:31:00 including 6 x 20/40 strides.
Friday - OFF.
Saturday - AM: 13 miles. 7.5-mile solo PMP in 40:31 at Fresh Pond. 13:35, 13:31, 13:25 for the three loops which works out to an average of 5:24 or so per mile.
Totals: 75 miles, 7 runs. We're inside 10 weeks now till the Big Show otherwise known as Bay State and training is finally getting to where it needs to be. I missed a couple of easy runs because life got in the way, but I nailed all the important stuff so I'm gonna go ahead and call this a pretty good week. I'll try my damnedest to kick things up a bit this coming week and then I'll rest up for a week before New Haven on September 1.

Tuesdays with Ryan

I'd hate for Ryan to have a stressful weekend down the Cape, so to ease his nerves here are our splits from Tuesday morning's 5 by 1-mile workout at Hudson High's Morgan Bowl. Recovery was a scant 90 seconds between each repeat.

1. 5:02.99
2. 5:04.97
3. 5:05.53
4. 5:05.58
5. 5:01.10

This was a solid effort for the two of us, and we successfully avoided the the clown walking across Lane 1 on the final repeat, so no casualties. And the weather was about as cooperative as it's ever gonna be in August, so no complaints there. We've still got a long ways to go, but all in all, I'd say we're off to a good start. Just gotta keep the ball rolling...

Relax!

I'd love love LOVE to write in this space much more often, but let's face it, time, or lack thereof, just doesn't allow me to do so as regularly as I would like. I've got a few free minutes this morning as I roll my f'd up foot around on a golf ball, and thought I'd share a relevant little snippet from Marty Liquori's autobiography, On the Run, which I am slowly making my way through a few pages at a time.

"I was a compulsive worker, and maybe I still am. I've only recently learned how to relax, I've only recently realized I never knew how to relax. I still work at it, which may sound contradictory, but that's what I do. I'm still learning that I don't have to feel guilty when I just sit and listen to records. I'm still learning that I don't have to feel guilty when I go off and strum my guitar. I'm a workoholic, and it's a curse."

Boy, is it ever. This "Go! Go! Go!" way of thinking can become so consuming that while we're so caught up in trying to get everything done, we end up missing out on everything else. I'm getting better at trying to reverse this wacky way of thinking, but as my boy Marty alluded to, it's a tough pattern to break.

The lesson here? Relax, folks. I'm still learning how to do so myself, still working at it a little bit every day. Right now, however, I've gotta run, quite literally. Ciao!

Training Log: August 3-9

So there's 10 weeks to go till Bay State which means it's time to stop f'n around and time to get down to business. Pretty much dove in head first this week with the goals of getting the mileage back up and getting the workouts in again, which is exactly what I did. Cumulative fatigue and impending injuries be damned.

The numbers, raw like the skin on this guy's knees.

Sunday - AM: 13 miles, 1:31:15 with Ryan and Christy Mae.
Monday - AM: 8.5 miles, 1:00:00. PM: 4.5 miles, 30:00 including 10 x 30 sec hard/30 sec easy.
Tuesday - AM: 4 miles, 30:00. PM: 8 miles, 1:00:00 with Casey after work.
Wednesday - AM: 4 miles, 30:00. PM: 11 miles. 6 x 2:00 hills @ 85% effort with Ryan & Ceiks on Eli Whitney St. in Westboro.
Thursday - AM: 7.5 miles, 53:55.
Friday - AM: 10 miles, 1:10:00 including 6 x 20/40 strides.
Saturday - AM: 12 miles. 4.6 mile Lincoln tempo run in with Ryan and Justin. Splits - 5:19, 5:23, 5:12, 3:09 (0.6), 5:01 = 24:04/5:13 avg.
Totals: 83 miles, 10 runs. Best week in a long while and a definite step in the right direction. Workouts weren't spectacular, but they were solid and that's good enough for now. I'll continue to build up for a couple more weeks, then scale things back a bit for New Haven on Labor Day before really ramping it up during the month of September, at which point I'll either be in 2:24 shape or very very injured. Let's keep our fingers crossed for the former.

B2B: The Way Racing Shouldn't Be

I've got a race report somewhere up my sleeve, and if I have some free time tomorrow (ha!) I'll be sure to roll up those sleeves up and let that sucker loose, but for now the Cliff's Notes version of this past weekend's Beach 2 Beacon 10K will have to suffice.

(Editor's note: After reviewing the content, the Cliff's Note's version will indeed suffice - permanently.)

Mile 1: Mario got out in about 5 minutes flat, hanging off the back of the women's lead pack and not feeling very comfortable with 5.2 miles of racing still left to go. He turns to former teammate Jeff Caron and says, "This is definitely faster than 33-minute pace."

Mile 2: The course started rolling a bit and Mario's pace slows down to a 5:22. The women's lead pack, which also included local studs Justin Lutz, David Bedoya and a few other hangers-on, pulled away and opened up a little bit of a gap.

Mile 2-1/2: Accepting the fact he was running like a huge pussy and didn't want to suffer any more, Mario backs off his effort a bit, waits for Rebecca Donaghue and Artie Gilkes to catch up (they weren't far behind to begin with), and proceeds to dangle himself like a carrot in front of his teammate, who would later finish as the top American woman in the race.

Mile 3: The net downhill carries Mario to a 5:18 third mile and a 16:18 split at 5K. JC has pulled away and Rebecca is rolling right along like she's out for a Saturday morning stroll. Colin Ingram, Mario's Mizuno rep and all-around good guy, pulls up along side our hurtin' hero with the clashing kit and engages him in the following exchange...

Colin: Let's go, Mario.
Mario: I'm in...the hurt box...dude.
Colin: I'm...way...over my head...too.

Mile 4: What goes down must come up, or something like that. In this case, that something was the pace, which shot up to 5:27 for no good reason. Actually, there was nothing good about this mile, or memorable anyway, so we'll leave it at that.

Mile 5: The clock read 26:35, but the big banner announcing the 5-mile mark about 150 meters before the actual 5-mile mark was enough of a tease that the split didn't mean shit when Mario finally reached the clock. His race well over, Rebecca's was just beginning as he and Artie kept close tabs on the fading Kenyan woman a few yards up ahead.

Mile 6: Resigned to his self-appointed role as domestique, Mario led Rebecca's charge into Fort Williams Park and quickly got the hell out of the way as the Pink Panther went on the prowl. By the 6-mile mark our new hero had boxed up one foreign delicacy and was ready to pick herself off another one, but simply ran out of real estate despite a sub 60-second clocking for her last 2/10 of a mile.

Synopsis: Mario ran a ball-less race. He needs to get his head on straight and his ass in gear.

Hummin' a slow tune

Been a couple of pretty ho-hum days 'round these parts, with a lotta bit o' work and a little bit of running mixed in to keep things somewhat interesting. Training has been pretty unspectacular since Sunday night's post, with an easy 4/4 double yesterday followed by a 6/6 split bill today.

This morning I made the most of limited time and fartleked 2 minutes on, 2 minutes off for the last 28 minutes of my run, just enough to keep the wheels spinning before I race in the World Championship of Maine, otherwise known as the Beach 2 Beacon 10K, on Saturday morning. After work, I took a leisurely 49 minute tour of Westboro with Rich, and along with discussing business matters, contemplated the Meaning of Life. OK, so that second part's a lie, but we did have a short, yet productive chat about life at the store, so short in fact that we had to finish it up afterward over a meal for the mighty, ie burritos and beer.

And that's about it. All I've got on tap for the rest of the week is a couple more days of work, some easy runnin' and bagging as much sleep in between as my schedule allows. Then it's off to Vacationland on Friday for a couple of days of fun in the sun. Oh yeah, and that little 10K road race on Saturday morning, almost forgot.

Take it back

Take back everything I wrote in that last post. The race got canceled on account of inclement weather. No big win, no heartbreaking loss, no cool prizes, nothing. Maybe next year.

I left Holden Center disappointed, dejected and above all, hungry. So I did what any good Italian kid with nothing better to do on a Sunday night would do - visit his Nana for a meal of macaroni and meatballs. Who needs to spend 10 bucks on a road race when you can get fed...for free!

And like when Frank saw Blue, it was glorrrrrrious. Well, until I got home about an hour later and decided on a whim it would be a bright idea to go out and attempt my tempo run. Good idea in theory, bad practice on a full stomach. It was anything but glorious.

Downright disgusting, in fact. Luckily I didn't hurl, but 28:05 for 5 miles is pretty ugly. My legs felt good, but 5:30 pace for the last couple miles was as fast as my ready-to-spew stomach would allow me to go.

Worst. Idea. Ever.

Eye on the prize(s)

I'm racing tonight, sort of.

In a few hours I'll be heading to the hilly town of Holden for the 45th running of the Fred S. Warren 5.5 Mile Road Race. This will be the fourth time I've contested this mid-summer Central Mass. classic, and for the record, the course is no longer than 5.3 miles, so if you're checking results tomorrow and it looks like I blazed the sucker, trust me, I didn't.

And believe me, I'm not going to try to, either. My goal for tonight's "race" is to get in a steady, solid effort, and if the cards fall in my favor (to be read: if Mike Smith or Mike Banks decide not to show up), win the thing. The idea is to not blow out the tubes before Beach 2 Beacon next weekend, where the stage will be a little bigger and the competition a little stiffer.

So why worry about winning at all then? Well, my reason is two-fold. First, and quite simply, I don't like losing. Second, I'll have first dibs at one of the dozens of brilliant merchandise prizes this race is known for dishing out afterward. Last year, I won a handy hand mixer after finishing sixth in a rather unspectacular 30:58. Since I'm a little more fit this summer - I think - I figure I'll be a few places and a couple minutes ahead of that tonight, which should open up a world of possibilities - perhaps a toaster, set of gas cans, extra-large lawn blanket or that charcoal grill I had my eye on last year. Stay tuned to see how I make out.

Routine maintenance

Alright, alright, I'll update my blog. Not that I didn't want to earlier this week, but time, as usual, is the major roadblock standing between my trigger finger and the PUBLISH POST button.

Since Papa Billy's wedding last Saturday, I haven't been up to anything worth writing about, other than reintegrating myself back into a regular routine with work, running and the like. The transition back to work has been seemless, running, not so much. I took last Sunday off to give my body a break and followed suit similarly today by electing to catch a few extra Z's rather than run a few extra miles. That's two days off within the same seven-day period and no, I'm not gonna lose any extra sleep over it. Just the opposite in fact.

Starting Sunday, however, I've got to get my ass in gear whether I like it or not. Two days from now marks the magical 12-week starting point of my Bay State buildup. Time to get the miles back up, stretch the long runs out a bit, work out twice a week again with regularity and sleep enough in between to recover from it all. Just found out the other day that this guy is officially on board and we'll be riding the train together all the way to Lowell.

So clear the tracks, we'll be comin' atcha full steam ahead.

Weddin' pikshaz

Bill and Bernie, happy as can be.

Papa Billy and the Fraioli boys.

Between Mr. and Mrs. Kirwin. Eyes closed, of course.

And yes, there was even an ice cream truck.

Pre-weekend update

OK, since I was giving this guy a load of shit for not updating his blog, I figure it's about time I bring my own similar-looking site back up to speed now that said guy as upped the ante with an Olympic Trials recap of epic proportions never before seen in the Blogosphere.

This paltry post won't be nearly as in depth, as there's not much to report since my last entry other than accumulating fatigue and a few uninspired jogs, which included a sidewalk face plant on Thursday and the always embarrassing getting passed from behind by a girl on Wednesday. No, I'm not making this stuff up. It's been that kind of week.

Luckily, there's been plenty to look forward today and heading into the weekend, including a visit this afternoon with my adopted niece Danielle Frances Kinney, who was born to two of my very best friends less than 24 hours after Mom died, along with my grandfather's wedding tomorrow morning. Yep, Circle of Life in full effect right there. You better believe it.

And yes, you read that second part above correctly. My grandfather, almost 80 years old, is tying the knot with his fantastic fiance, Bernice Stone, a wonderful woman he met after my Nana passed away a few years ago. Go Papa Billy!

After a tough couple weeks for me and my family, we're all very much looking forward to tomorrow's festivities. The ceremony will be a low-key affair in the woods of rural Charlton, followed by an awesome afternoon of fun, food and more fun and more food. To see the sadness in Papa Billy's eyes the last few weeks turn to sparkle upon mention of the wedding was enough to put a smile on anyone's face. It's gonna be a great time, chock full of fun, laughter and celebration, which is exactly what this family needs right now.

Back on track

It's no first person Olympic Trials recap (still waitin' on it JC!), but here's the rough data from tonight's track workout, my first in three weeks.

5 x 1K @ 3:08.62, 3:07.80, 3:08.44, 3:07.16, 3:05.63 w/200m jog recovery in 1:10-1:30, 2 x 800m in 2:25.77, 2:21.56 w/1:00 recovery.

Since everyone else's season is pretty much over I flew solo on this one, and all things considered it went pretty well. I felt strong and Kevin said I looked smooth, so I'll take it. Basically I'm in maintenance mode right now until Beach 2 Beacon on August 2nd, then I'll shut it down for a week and then it's full steam ahead to Bay State on October 19. Heard rumor that this guy might possibly be joining me for a scenic 26.2-mile tour of Lowell. Boy, that would be just swell.

Routine update

Finally starting to get back into a regular life routine, and hopefully I'll be back into the blogging routine - however sporadic it may be - by the end of the week. Perhaps by then this guy and maybe even this guy will be back at it as well.















Yep, I just called you suckas out. Somebody has to try and keep it real 'round here.

Mom's Eulogy

A few people have asked me for a copy of Mom's eulogy from earlier today, but since I only had the original written version, I decided that typing it up and posting it here would be the easiest way to get it out, and the best way to leave a lasting tribute for Mom.

When I was a little kid, whenever my Mom would drive me somewhere - and she drove me everywhere - whether it was basketball practice, summer camp, a friend's house, wherever, when the song, "Here Comes The Sun" by the Beatles would come on the radio, Mom would remind me every time, without fail, that when I was a baby she would sing this song to me.

"It was your favorite song," she used to say. "You loved it."

Whatever, Mom. At the time, I didn't know who the Beatles were, and I sure didn't remember ever liking that song, but I just took her word for it. Years later, when I would finally develop a taste for good music, I remembered that song. I actually grew to like it - still do, in fact. It became one of my favorites. Maybe Mom was right, then again, Mom was always right.

"Mothers know everything bud," she would remind me at least once a week.

Well, a little less than a week ago, I don't think anyone knew that Mom was gonna be taken from us, not even her.

When I arrived at the Emergency Room of St. Vincent's Hospital last Tuesday, in the middle of a nasty thunderstorm, my own world quickly turned as dark and gray as the one outside.

"They...think...she's...dead...Mario," my brother Matt finally spit out to me. One look at my crying father told me this was no terrible nightmare. This was a horrific reality. Mom had passed on from this life.

There was nothing we, or anyone else, could do about it, so we gathered together, as a family, in the waiting room at the hospital.

We cried, as a family.

We hugged, as a family.

We told each other we were gonna stay stay strong and get through this tough time. Again, as a family.

We needed each other, but we all also needed a moment to ourselves. I needed to get out of that room, I needed some fresh air. So I took a walk outside.

As I stepped out onto the sidewalk, the sun was shining bright and Mom started singing my favorite song to me.

Here comes the sun, here comes the sun, and I say it's alright.

Well Ma, it might take a little while but it's gonna be alright. And since you know everything, I'll just take your word for it. In the meantime, we'll remember you for the wonderful woman you were - wife, mother, daughter, aunt, friend.

Mom was a giver in the truest sense of the word. She gave herself to my Dad as his devoted wife of 27 years. As a mother, she gave life to me and my three beautiful siblings, not to mention hundreds of car rides to camps, practices, recitals, friend's houses and everywhere else under the sun. She gave generously to her family and friends, baking dozens and dozens of cookies during the month of December so everyone could have a full tin for Christmas. Jay, she still needs yours back by the way.

Mom gave and gave and gave some more and never asked for anything in return, except maybe for a medium iced caramel swirl latte with skim milk, no sugar, whipped cream and extra caramel if you just happened to be going by Dunkin' Donuts on your way home.

Well, Mom's not gonna be at home anymore, but that's OK because Nana has some company in heaven now. The two of them will always be with us, always watching over us.

I miss you Mom.

We all miss you.

And as Sean and Alicia told you every time they saw you or talked to you on the phone, "Auntie, we love you."

Mom, we all love you.

Mom, 3/25/58-7/1/08

Shirley M. (Kirwin) Fraioli, 50, of Auburn, died unexpectedly Tuesday, July 1, 2008, at home.

Shirley is survived by her loving family; her husband, Mario Fraioli; two sons, Mario Fraioli, Jr. of Worcester, Matthew K. Fraioli of Auburn; two daughters, Jayme L. Fraioli and Lisa M. Fraioli, both of Auburn; her father, William Kirwin, Sr. of Millbury; three brothers, Michael Kirwin and his wife Frances of Worcester, William Kirwin, Jr. and Anthony Kirwin both of Millbury; four sisters, Jane-Marie Mrazik and her husband David of Oxford, Denise Dalpe and her husband James of Millbury, Christine Godbout and her husband Roger of Worcester, Patricia Kirwin and her companion Jay West of Millbury, as well as many aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews and cousins.

Shirley was born in Worcester and lived here most of her life before moving to Millbury. Her mother was the late Patricia (VanAlstyne) Kirwin. She was a graduate of North High School. Shirley enjoyed being a homemaker and loved being with her family, especially her niece, Alicia and nephew, Sean. Among her many interests she enjoyed sewing, baking, walking, and camping. She loved to read, and enjoyed spending time with her close friends. Shirley was a devoted wife and mother whose time spent with her family was precious to her. She will be missed dearly by her family and friends. Shirley was a former member of Our Lady of Mt. Carmel-St Ann Church, and was a long time volunteer for the American Cancer Society.

Shirley's funeral will be held Monday from the MERCADANTE FUNERAL HOME & CHAPEL, 370 Plantation St. with a Mass of Christian burial at 11:00AM in Our Lady of Mt. Carmel-St Ann Church, 24 Mulberry St. Calling hours in the funeral home will be 4-7PM on Sunday. Burial will be in Notre Dame Cemetery. Flowers may be sent or contributions made to the Susan G. Komen For The Cure, 5005 LBJ Freeway, Suite 250, Dallas, TX. 75244.

Tragic Tuesday

I never made it to my chiropractic appointment in Natick on Tuesday, or my track workout in Waltham for that matter. Heck, I never even made it past the 495 exit on the Mass Pike in Hopkinton. About 50 minutes after I published my last post and hit the highway, I ended up back in Worcester, at the Emergency Room of St. Vincent's Hospital, where my world was flipped upside down.

I'd rather I was there because my car had flipped upside down, but no, I didn't get in an accident. That I could have lived with, even if it killed me.

What transpired in the minutes after I parked my car and found my family is a scary scene I'm having trouble trying to close the curtains on, and one that I'm still having a hard time believing happened altogether.

"They...think...she's...dead...Mario," my brother Matt finally choked out in the hallway outside of the waiting room. Opening the door to that waiting room to see my usually stoic Dad sobbing hysterically made this surreal nightmare a morbid reality.

She - Shirley Marie Kirwin Fraioli - Mom to me, my brother and two sisters, husband of 27 years to my Dad, daughter of 50 years to my Papa Billy, sister to her seven siblings, Auntie Shirley to her dozens of nieces and nephews and Shirl to a countless many friends, had passed away unexpectedly at home about an hour earlier. She was 50 years too young.

It's hard to believe all of this transpired in the last 36 hours, and as I said before it's hard to believe that any of this has happened at all. Mom's sudden death is a shock to all of us and a day later it still just doesn't seem real, but the fact of the matter is it's a shocking reality, not just the bad dream we're all hoping to wake up from tomorrow morning.

As a family, I hesitate to say we're doing OK, but we're doing the best we can right now. The Fraioli Family and the Kirwin Klan are a tight-knit bunch, and together we're gonna get through this - we always do. Plus, we've had a little help from our fantastic friends, and as I and the rest of my family have come to find out in the last day or so, there are many of them. To all of you out there, your support means a lot, just as my Mom means a lot to all of us.

So keep my Mom in your thoughts and prayers, and be sure tell your own Mom, Dad, or whoever it may be that you love 'em. They'll love you for it, believe me.

I love you, Mom, and already miss you more than I can put into words.

Auntie Shirley, with her other two favorite "kids", Sean & Alicia.

Homegrown inspiration

Let me say this. Amy Begley's furious finish in the women's 10,000 on Friday night might have been the most inspiring piece of running I've ever witnessed in my 26 years of existence, even if I wasn't there to see it firsthand.

That said, last night's injection of inspiration hit a bit closer to home, as from the comfort of my couch I watched New Balance Boston teammate and native Central Masser, Rebecca Donaghue, earn her spot in the 5,000-meter final Thursday night with a fifth-place, 15:38.95 finish in her qualifying heat.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot, this was a 17-second PR - 17 seconds! - at the Olympic Trials no less!

It was both an incredible and inspiring performance, incredibly inspiring, in fact. I'll have more to add later, as well as my take on all the other action, but first I gotta go get my flimsy frame realigned before hitting the track tonight myself. Catch you clowns later.