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!