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.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Monday, November 24, 2008
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.
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.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
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.
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.
Monday, November 10, 2008
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!
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!
Sunday, November 09, 2008
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.
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.
Friday, November 07, 2008
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.
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.
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
Sunday, October 26, 2008
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.
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.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
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.
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.
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.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.
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."
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.
Friday, October 17, 2008
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.
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.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
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.
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.
Wednesday, October 08, 2008
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.
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.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
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.
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.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
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.
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.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
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.
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.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
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.
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.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Lots o' new stuff...
...coming soon!
Or maybe not so soon, but I swear it's coming sometime. Sit tight!
Or maybe not so soon, but I swear it's coming sometime. Sit tight!
Sunday, September 07, 2008
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.
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.
Thursday, September 04, 2008
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?
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?
Monday, September 01, 2008
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.
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.
