Showing posts with label running. Show all posts
Showing posts with label running. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

first "race" of the year

returned to the running racing circuit this weekend. legs are quite certain of this, my iliotibial bands and calves plangently so. i feel like i ran a marathon though it was only 10miles. the highlight of my warmup was being chased by a yappy and tantalisingly puntable yorkie, leash trailing behind it. i gave its owner a WTF look as i ran by; he just chuckled tolerantly. o funny dog, the things you do!

anyway, the point of the run, to moi anyway, was not to race but rather do a nice tempo effort with 370 of my closest friends. the cannon fired (yes we get started by a cannon because we are DELAWARE and what we lack in size we make up for in sheer noyz) and king dave, with whom i'd done a killer 4000yd workout in the pool the day before, pulled up to me and inquired about my target pace. tempo, i said, and you? sticking in the low 7s, said he, and then getting down to 6:45s at the half. serendipity! - i thought, for that was exactly what i wanted to do and now i had company, but by the time i wrapped up that compound thought king dave was out of sight and i didn't clap eyes on him again until the gatorade table at the finish.

the first mile went by and i was way off my intended pace; second mile passed the same; but it felt right so i didn't push. we climbed up to rockford park and i started to pass a stream of people petering on the hill. as we approached the halfway turn-around i was surprised to see there were only a dozen or so women ahead of me. oh whatever i'm running my own pace, right? i passed a couple more on the way down from rockford and then with 2 miles to go there were 4 women in striking distance.

do you see where this is going?
do you understand why i whimper when i walk down steps?

i let one woman pull me closer to the others. a quarter mile from the finish there's a 200m climb that goes straight up, and i thought that if i got close enough before the hill i could knock some of them off there because if i'm catching you at the end of a 10mile race you're probably not going to be able to counter on a hill.

i passed one, then two, three, and the fourth as we crested the hill and hit a headwind that almost blew me backwards. i was not a happy kid but i knew i'd be even less happy if the woman behind me had something left for the straightaway dash to the line so i pegged it for about 30sec and then did something only cowards do – looked back – but i'd enough of a gap to cruise in without popping a lung onto pennsylvania ave.

turns out i was 5th overall; 6-9th finished within 20 sec. so much for my tempo run.

it is good to be back.

Monday, January 05, 2009

dr. cherry's work, at 3 months

it's been nearly three months since dr. ken cherry of UVA installed Pipes 2.0 via a patch of my left external iliac artery & an inguinal release. rode 60miles sunday, ran 10 hilly ones yesterday and flirted with low 6's pace his morning: nary a squeak of claudication. i can run sub-7 pace comfortably now when before surgery my left side from hip flexor to calf would shut down at 7:40 from lack of blood.

now i don't wanna jump to any Rash conclusions, but my studies would indicate that i was broke, cherry fixed me, and that his counterpart at christiana care who saw no stenoses or vascular irregularities in my arteriogram and concluded "maybe at the age of 40 your vessels don't dilate like they used to" was full of shit. but i could be wrong.

regardless, it is good to be moving again, and moving w/o having to mitigate constantly migrating pain. no objectives or focus for the upcoming season -- have yet to consult the Oracle -- but there's short-course du nats in april (eep), in may a national-caliber tri (my favorite race) and in june a half-ironman that's also a qualifier for Kona. maybe that's focus after all.

for now it's just base base base, with perhaps some lifting injected here & there if i can talk EZ into spotting me on squats over & over & over again. oh seemple simon and eez pieman...

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

LC du worlds, or Accomplishing the Preposterous

a month ago i was moaning to fatmammycat about the preposterous conceit of running 16miles at worlds when i could barely manage 3 on the treadmill. preposterous is just another fancy arsed word for ludicrous - she responded - and we KNOW ludicrous is easily bitch slapped senseless when up against reservoir deep. she was right.

long course du worlds
18k run – 78k bike – 9k run

if you're a cyclist, you can't do much better than belgium. there are usually smooth, glass-free dedicated bike lanes and when there aren't, drivers yield to you instead of firing invective and anything else they can find behind the passenger seat.

and the belgians know how to put on a race. the day before worlds, the local organisers treated us to an escorted pre-ride of a bike course that zigged and zagged through downtown geel before shooting back and forth between a couple roundabouts. we were in a rolling enclosure the entire time, protected by motos that would stop traffic along sidestreets, drop back behind and then zoom to the next intersection in a finely-coordinated dance. i felt like i was in the Tour. and nobody crashed or made any bone-headed moves. if we'd been triathletes there'd have been bodies all over the road.

one thing the race organisers couldn't do was control the weather, and when i woke before dawn on race-day morning a fine mist was falling from the sky, and it continued to fall off & on over the next 6 hours, just enough to keep the roads wet and the corners & cobbles slightly treacherous. but at least it wasn't hot!

after a short warmup i hit the loo for one final time and had a panic moment when i emerged to find transition empty and the start not where i thought it was. but it's not a proper race unless you almost miss the start, and once i was there standing behind the line cares and anxieties vanished. racing is the reward for all the BTW workouts, the packing, the visualising of bike in's and run out's, the 8th nervous poo; and once you're on the start line, you can relax because the hard stuff's done. fisch and the Oracle had laid out my race strategy so i didn't even have to think, just execute.

the first run was 4 laps of a 4.5k course that offered a couple out & backs so you could track how many people were in front of you -- and there were a LOT. the women's field wasn't big – about 50 – and half of them were ahead of me after the first 5k. the 40+ men had started 2 minutes ahead, and the fields began to mix halfway in. oh great - my pal bob had lamented before the race - i've got 2 minutes before all the estrogen in the world comes up my ass.

i ran with a couple other Team USA women for the first 2 laps because they were running a relaxed, loose pace. whatever you give up on the first run will more than come back to you on the second – the Oracle said – long course is very forgiving of a slow start. every couple k's i did a reality check to make sure i wasn't running 10min miles and looked for my teammate rich from NC, because his big happy grin reminded me how very cool it was just to be here in the first place.

i ran up on a german dude in a skinsuit and pulled alongside to pass. he was having none of this, however, and sped up a little. klaus the german was tall, and we were turning into a windy section, so i slotted behind and nestled in his draft. klaus was awesome. everytime i thought we were going a little too slow i'd run abreast of him and he'd speed up again. klaus was very accommodating, and he pulled me almost all the way to a clump of women just ahead. hooray for klaus.

in T1 i sacrificed some time stretching a couple talkative ITBs and then took off on the bike. the course was never boring: there was always something to do, like corner on cobblestones, wend your way through the feedzone and exploding waterbottles, and finesse a 180 on a 2-lane highway. at race pace, that 180 was an entirely different animal from the pre-ride, and on the first of the 4 laps i had to unclip and tap my way around it. oopsie! - i sang to a course marshal who seemed disappointed by the lack of drama. the second time around that 180 i was more bold, but the 3rd time i creeeeeeeeept around it like the bike and i were made of fine china. there was someone hot on my wheel as i came into the turn, someone who had to stutter to a crawl when i slowed down to minus-70mph inching around the barricade. when we straightened out the suffering soul shot by on my left – none other than klaus! oh, how he must hate my very bones.

the bike felt good, however, and i passed some women out there so i knew i was making up time. in my head were many voices: fisch, the Oracle, slick rik, fatmammycat and eileen the YMCA lifeguard who oversaw my snail-toils in the deep-end with the AquaJogger. you're going to do great, i just know it – she'd declared, as though all my bones were properly knit together. this host of voices nearly drowned out the irish washerwoman jig on the mental jukebox but not quite.

in T2 i nearly toppled over because my legs were so racked from the bike, but i decided to go with my flats instead of the trainers i took out for the first run. might as well give that mending metatarsal a test! i craved sugar too, so i rifled through my transition rucksack for a bag of jelly beans (Brachs, brah), stuffed them in my singlet pocket and shuffled into the second run. my feet felt like inanimate blocks, and i ran like frankenstein... but at least i had jelly beans. i rummaged in my pocket, cellophane snapping so loudly that a dude ahead of me flinched. i stuffed a handful in my mouth, oh the licorice ones are the BEST, just as the man turned around to see what all the commotion was about. i grinned at him, a big black goofy grin, and he shuddered and turned back around. jelly beans are great, see, because you can mash them to the roof of your mouth where they'll stay until the engine room calls for a little more gas, and you swirl your tongue up there and get some.

after a couple minutes the things at the ends of my legs started to feel like feet again... and look, here's klaus! hello klaus, how happy you must be to see me. would you like some jelly beans? no?? klaus did not have a good second run. i hope this is not because i bullied him too much in the first, being a chick and all.

i caught a couple more women and from the out & backs determined there were about 5 more ahead of me as i neared the finish. what i didn't know was that i was first in my age group until i crossed the line and the PA announced me a world champion. way to go, delaware! - deepak called from the stands and high-fived me as i headed toward the post-race eats, difficult to get down because of the shit-eating grin on my face.

and thus began a 10 or 12hr "recovery" period which FMC has already described. 'tis good to have friends.

Thursday, June 05, 2008

thursday earling morny at the YMCA

went down like this
eats
1 doubleshot latte
handful of jelly beans
NO advil!!!
20 min on EFX

Canterbury Tales on ipod
jackshep rowing.
eep

4 miles on treadmill
Tool on ipod
1 mi ez
2 miles @7:19
lovely to open up (a little).

window reflecting
jack's
4 sets of pullups.
nearly fall
off tready.
finished w/6x30sec @6:20ish
repercussions
so far just
happiness.


[note: pic is Not My Fault. must have happened when i was cuing up the Knight's Tale on the iScrotum. oopsie.]

Wednesday, June 04, 2008

bad news & good, from dr foot

dr foot proactively quashed all my protests and denials by kicking off yesterday's appointment with a display of my MRI results. kinda hard to deny in black & white. that's the 3rd metatarsal, the bone that runs from the middle toe to the ankle.



flanked by his technician and a doctor-in-training, dr foot put me up on the table to assess the damage. his fingers poked into soft tissue crevices, tested my peroneal strength and then pressed along the bone where the MRI indicated the fracture. tech and junior leaned in. there was a collective holding of breaths. dr foot looked at me questioningly.
- hurt?
- it's a little sore. but it's sore there on my other foot too.
- it's a deep fracture - dr foot noted. i might not be able to reach it with my fingers.
he hummed softly to himself while rummaging in his pocket. i winced when the tuning fork emerged. he struck it on the side of the table and i started doing kegel exercises. 3 pairs of eyes stared at my face while the fork touched down. i didn't have to say a word.
- no pain on the fourth metatarsal - he observed.
my upper lip twitched when he moved the fork. oh jesusfuck.
- and third...
nothing. no jolt, no jism of pain. the tech looked dumbfounded. dr foot completed some desultory poking and then cleared me for "training as tolerable": pref 2 more weeks of rest, and then slow return to mileage with a bone stimulator unit thrown in.
- so i can run on a stress fracture?? and it'll still heal?
- yep, as long as you don't do anything stupid. the bone stimulator will help, of course.
- what causes a stress fracture in that area?
- tight calves, tight shoes and broken-down orthotics. we'll make some minor tweaks to your orthotics today, but nothing major until your season's done in october...
he sailed out the exam room with junior and his cheerful voice faded down the hallway - or earlier if you wrack yourself!

the tech gathered my files, frowning as she pulled the MRI printout off the viewer.
- i can't believe you don't feel more pain when it's that broke.

laf wasn't surprised.
- you have a high pain threshold. kel ran on her stress fracture 'til her bone was mush. so are you doing the half-ironman sunday?
- hell no!!
- good girl.

so look out grandpa-on-his-way-to-the-library. i'll be gunning for you this weekend.

Friday, May 30, 2008

alternatives to running, pt 4

the 4th alternative to running is.... running!!  hooray!  for this morning i ran 4 miles on the treadmill and the foot held up.  even better, a 7:30min mile felt gratifying easy after pushing through water for 3 weeks.  and after a week's absence, jack shepherd was back on the treadmill this morning.  oh frabjous day.  i am happy like a meerkat, like a marita.  this cannot last.  


but while it does, here's some good stuff off the beaten path. song titles play; thumbnails download.


The National - About Today
live from the White Sessions. a simple song, rich vocals, and violin.  heard this song in the car on the way back from burying grandmother.  wept.  thanks heather.  



El-P - Flyentology (Cassettes Won't Listen Remix)
could also be called the "Tom Cruise You Creep Me the Fuck Out" remix.  cutting lyrics with special surprise backup vocals which teho will ID in 2sec.  i don't know about the rest of you. 


danny lohner's been a recluse of late (kidz stay in skool) but he still makes an occasional appearance. on this one, he even sings.   

Ever wished for a version of RWIB with full, stereo vocals before trenty comes out from behind the treez? here you go.  thx PK.


HAPPY.  MFBT.

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Faith

countdown to short-course du worlds qualifiers: 6 days
status of legs: shit

so muhammed went to the mountain.

[finn]
just out of curiosity, did your legs ever feel like crap for a week? if so, how did you deal mentally/physically?


being Perfect, the Oracle was probably never this pathetic, but i am fed up.


[the Oracle]
The answer is: Yes. I was trying to think up a nice, technical answer for you on how to deal. I can't. How about just "get over it."

he then prescribed intervals on the bike today, and 400s at the track tomorrow. left to mine own devices, i'd be on the sofa from now 'til sunday demanding peeled grapes from laf, but this season is all about changing the pitch up. and faith.

I know that's not what you want to hear, but you've been working hard, and the hard work will show on Sunday not yesterday, not today, probably not tomorrow. The feeling will go away on Sunday when the gun goes off.


hurrrrr. we'll see about that.

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

so i did. ask.

[finn]
i just looked at results from powerman alabama and got myself into a State. there is no way i can run that fast -- sub 6?? but i am not dashing to you to cry -- much -- because i know you've better things to do and i'm not 5 years old.

[the Oracle]
I only looked at this quickly, and don’t understand why you’re in a “state”. Who ran sub 6’s? The way I see it, you would have been 2rd overall (and there were several pros in the race). It’s hard to compare one course to another, especially when you don’t know the two courses, or the conditions on the day of the race. I’ll take a closer look when I have some more time, but give me an idea of what you’re concerned about.

[finn, tues AM]
i think the State's just a delicate mental condition brought on by two tectonic plates colliding in my mind: the idea of having low/no expectations (which i'm used to) and having higher, perhaps unrealistic expectations. that conflict may be the hardest thing about this season.

that's the complicated explanation. the simple one is that the powerman girls laid down some smokin' times for that first run.

[finn, tues PM]
even though my legs were decidely not-perky tonight, i still banged out 6x800, all under 3min with the help of my new friend Laconic David. yay.

[the Oracle]
Way to go!

By the way.....
"Kloner, Frank and Simpson placed first, second and third, respectively, despite being assessed a four-minute penalty for accidentally not running three-tenths of a mile of the run course. The penalty did not affect their order of finish but Kattouf wound up fifth behind Harris by five seconds."

That should make you feel better about those "smoking times". You'd be that fast too if you cut the freekin course. Another lesson learned...never trust the split times and distances of a duathlon.

Go get some rest and dream of gold.

FMC's right. having the Oracle is like having another heart.

Tuesday, April 08, 2008

going to long-course du worlds

LC worlds qualifier
6 april, north carolina
8k run - 53k bike - 8k run

in early april i'm usually emerging from hibernation, dusting off the tri bike and slouching into speedwork. this year the first race of the season was the regional qualifier for long course duathlon worlds this summer. who knows the strange ways of USA Triathlon? not i.

because of the rude beginning to the season, and because i'd like to step up the game this year, i appealed for coaching advice to someone whom i revere as much for his attitude as his storied athletic career. he graciously accepted and under this oracle's direction i have bitched, whined and wept over my top tube; but here it is april and i'm standing at the start of an A race feeling entitled to one of the top 2 slots in my age group that will send me to belgium in august. i feel entitled because i've done my homework and the Oracle and i have a Strategy. we didn't want to change too many things in my first race in 6 months, so the strategy is pretty simple: go hard and don't fuck up the transitions like i usually do.

8k run
the run course is flat and fast, if you're fast. i'm not. i'm safe, content to sit with the lead group of women, none of whom i know because i don't race this far from home. i recognised only 1 name on the pre-reg list -- Stacey R -- who's studly enough to be out of my league and coaches other studs. i peg the woman beside me as stacey based on body type and the fact that she chatters and chirps encouragement through the first half-mile. who talks that much during a race?? someone who's saving something for the bike, i now realise. but anyway.

a chick wearing compression socks that look suspiciously like arm warmers has had enough of the chatter, or maybe wants to win the race, because she shoots up the road at the 2 mile mark. no one else responds, so after a half-mile of indecision i do, and for the rest of the first run i linger in no man's land about 20sec back from her. she runs well, i note, but she doesn't have a cycling ass, so it will be interesting to see what she does on a bike.

into the transition zone... and so much for Strategy. i put my helmet on over the sunglasses on top of my head, i lose my balance trying to kick off my shoes and plant one foot in a puddle and the other in the helmet of the person next to me. i swear every time i enter a TZ i turn into a total moron.

i never thought anyone could have a slower transition than me unless they were maybe a beaver or reclining chair, but i make it outta there before compression-sock chick, and when i mount the bike i'm first F.

53K bike
how do you ride the beginning of a 32mi bike when you're in first place? good thing i don't have to worry about this for long! i'm toodling in my small ring when a tightly compact aero-human in a pointy helmet shoots by me like a bullet train. now SHE has a cycling ass. hmmmm - i strategise - i think it is time for snacks - and i am enjoying a tasty e-gel and accelerade when stacey rips by. let's chase her down! - she yells chirpingly while i gape at her, drooling gel. who talks that much during a race??? people who've got their shit together, maybe, because i don't. i can't get in a groove, the mental jukebox is skipping all over the place, and i've forgotten how to time-trial rolling courses.

i endeavor to keep stacey and aerogirl in sight, but i'm struggling and at mile 16 they're small specks. like insects. i am watching all the insects march along... and then i have my song. my legs feel better -- or maybe we've left the worst of the rollers behind -- and by mile 20 i've gained some ground on aerogirl, but stacey's still way out there. when another woman passes me i use her as motivation to leave aerogirl behind. the woman in front of me wasn't part of the lead group of runners, so unless she was totally dogging the first run i should be able to take her in the second. still, the voice of the Oracle's there telling me every second i make up in the bike is one i don't have to make up in the run, so i'm at her heels coming into transition.

8k run
T2's smoother: the only malfunction i have is trying to put on two left shoes. the Oracle suggested 2 pairs of flats; what he neglected to mention to the moron is that they should not look exactly the same. aerogirl and i leave the TZ at the same time, stacey's 2min up the road with second place 20sec ahead of me. i know second's within reach; i don't know about stacey.

i gain on second slowly and pass her in the first mile. i can't make up time on stacey, though. she's too good, too experienced; and i finish 1:37 back from her, roughly a minute of that lost in transition.

this is going to be easy - said the Oracle afterward. there is no question that you can go A LOT faster.

there is work to be done.
and i am going to belgium.

Thursday, April 03, 2008

countdown to worlds qualifier: 4 days

- where are you going? - D grumped when my watch chimed at 4:10 this morning.
- swimming.
his arm tightened like a boa.
- i thought you were laying off that until your race.
- no, that's *whiskey*. two different things.
- mmm. they're both vices.

'tis true, though -- the hooch is on the shelf 'til sun nite.** last night i knocked out one final hard ride, and between now and sunday's race it's ez street. what is ez street? i'm a grizzled veteran and i still don't know. so i approached the bench.

- I think you should do what you usually do the 3 days leading up to a race (I've changed your routine enough already, I don't want to mess too much with your lead-up to a race). Everything should be easy through race day. What do you usually do in the 3 days before races?
honesty is the best policy with The Oracle.
- what i usually do 3 days before a race is stop drinking whiskey and pray a lot, to a whole host of deities.
- That's a start. Also try doing some (4 to 6) 20 to 30 second pick-ups during your run(s) and 1 min pick ups on your ride(s).

then he gave me a bunch of hot tips for improving my transitions but i won't go into that because you'd be bored senseless and then i'd have to kill you.

- And Finn?
- yessir.
- Get to the race at least half an hour earlier than usual.

PAH. that's just crazy talk.

**wine
≠ hooch.

Monday, March 31, 2008

The Oracle is motivating

finally getting back into the training groove after a month flipped upside-down by 12days in scotland, an unplanned trip to baltimore and a flu that knocked me out for 5 days. feels good to be moving again.

but this Quality Over Quantity school of thought The Oracle subscribes to demands a deep stock of emotional fortitude, mental focus and blind faith, 3 things noticeably absent from Finn's Top 10 Strengths list, which includes things like Eating ice cream, Not folding laundry and Ignoring spills on the kitchen counter. also The Oracle subscribes to Pain, another foreign construct in my happy world of 12mi @ 8min/mile. yesterday it took me 6hours to screw up enough courage to get on the bike and grind out a BTW 20mi ride and 3mi run. 77min of PAIN. a small child sitting on a seesaw in his backyard saw my face during the run and then ran inside, his fat little arms flailing.

- is it normal to cry during these workouts? - i asked The Oracle - or am i just a big pussy.
i am sure The Oracle never cries. firstly, he is a dude, and second he is perfect.

- yes - he surprised me - crying is normal for that type of workout. You’ll cry when you stand on the top step of the podium listening to the national anthem too.

that is why i have the blind faith.

Monday, March 03, 2008

the irish blog awards, and The Oracle

first of all, congrats to fatmammycat and twenty major for representin (FMC in spirit) at the irish blog awards saturday nite. FMC took best post award; twenty snagged most humorous post and best blog overall. congrats to both, and to arseblog for winning best sport blog.

now, let us speak of sport, which i don't do often because i know that playing with dust particles is more exciting than reading about so-and-so's training plan, unless so-and-so happens to be your competition and if you are my competition then i have done this blogging thing wrong wrong all wrong.

to some people, having the right coach is the difference between an All-American season and one that ends in june when you're burnt out on the sofa reading Lucky magazine and eating Mallomars. finding a proper coach can be an arduous process, and having just gone through it myself i feel qualified to offer this guide called:

HOW TO FIND THE RIGHT MULTISPORT COACH FOR YOU:
A GUIDE FOR DUMBFUCKS ACCUSTOMED TO FLYING BY THE SEAT OF THEIR PANTS AND SETTING UP THEIR BIKES IN TRANSITION AS THE STARTGUN SOUNDS

step #1. undergo a rude awakening. finding out that qualifiers for long-course duathlon (run-bike-run) worlds are only a month away is very effective. attendant upon this awareness are these realities:

  • - your first race of the season will be a worlds qualifier
  • - your second race will be another worlds qualifier (for short course), 3 weeks later
  • - you are just now coming off base. you have done NO speedwork.
  • - you will be off the bike for 11 consecutive days this month
  • - you are fucked
  • - you need professional help
  • - your bowels are hot, roiling liquid
2. while you're in the bathroom, text all your friends who have coaches and ask whether it's too late to get connected with them (it is MARCH, after all). don't discriminate, blanketbomb. beggars can't be choosers.

3. back at your desk, stare at your unresponsive phone and then recall a crazy pipedream idea E proposed on a ride. send an email to the 2004 elite world duathlon champion and throw yourself at his mercy, esplainin' you're seeking training & racing advice from someone who's:

  • - experienced, and successful
  • - okay training by feel not numbers, and not all caught up in heart-rate, wattages, V02 max or lactate-threshold. some people dig that shit. not me.
  • - appreciative of the fact there's life outside training and racing. there's whisk(e)y, for one, and 65hr work weeks.
  • - unlikely to get on your tits too bad if you spend a weekend in the boozetank or battling the Dog, instead of riding a bike.
4. SQUEEEEE when he says yes and run back to the bathroom.

so now, for the first time i have an Oracle to guide me and reveal certain truths -- like if i wish to place top 2 in my AG in carrboro, NC on april 6th i need to get on a bike as often as i can during those 11 days in scotland.

so, finn's world has undergone a seismic shift, and instead of lazily slouching toward a half-ironman in june we are rabbiting into race shape for april. huzzah! -and i need a nap.

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

in FattyTime...

in FattyTime, after you do anywhere between a third and half of the prescribed workout at tues nite track, it is okay to sit down for a while. 


- what's good in the land of finn? - laf asked, dropping beside me.
fucking that was a tuffie.  christmas, which is so simple for kids -- you leave snickerdoodles on a plate by the fireplace and the next morning there is a new bike for you -- becomes a tangled, fraught affair as you delicately balance family, friends and people you'd rather never see ever again.   what's good indeed.
- wellllll i got four strikes in my second game today.  

loucypher, huggy bear and i went to a client-sponsored bowling party.  when i wasn't pitching my ball into the gutter, i was notching strikes and spares.  i'm like donovan mcnabb!- i told my teammates.  they were less charmed than i'd hoped.  

laf and i talked about how non-athletes wrongly assume that, as athletes, we should excel at anything that involves movement, when in reality anything that requires coordinated movement is something we'll unequivocally suck at.  we bitched, commiserated and laughed while watching runners pacing through 500s.  our bench soon accrued sir oliver, teej and il divo.  fisch crossed the track to fetch a foam roller from the equipment room.  hands on hips, he surveyed the black rebel motorcycle club.
- what, you think i couldn't see all of you from over there?
i gave him a big gappy grin.
- what are you doing? - he asked.
- it's december - i explained - it's FattyTime.
- the more people we get here, the faster everyone else will finish, and the sooner we'll be at the deer park - laf clarified.

in FattyTime this equation always holds true: 
[oz of post-track guinness consumed] x 100 > [meters run]

Monday, November 26, 2007

last race of 2007: DE XC champs @ brandywine

laf called saturday afternoon.
- how did the race go?
- fine.
- did you win?
- nnnnnn-oh - two syllables.
- no? really?? how does that FEEL, finn?

he's being a smart-ass because last week i did a 10k turkey trot, won, loitered in front of E's house for a cooldown and when nobody came out to invite me to a lumberjack's breakfast jogged back to the starting line and won the 5K 30min later. you, my fans, are spoiled.


- who beat you?
- an ex-olympian...
- vicki?
- jah. a pro duathlete from new zealand...
- fiona?
- jah. and some chick i've never seen before.
- DOH! are you okay?
- sort of. i've been crying a lot, and i just polished off a bag of reese's peanut butter cups. i'm watching High Tension right now and after that i should be okay.
- right. how was the hammie?
- except for a tweak on maintenance hill, absolutely fine. i got a looooong warmup though.

my explanation of my “looooong” warmup necessitated the confession that 15min before my race started i was hopelessly lost in brandywine creek state park. for a warmup, i'd dropped off the XC course to run flat along the river, out and back, but when i doubled-back with tool's Days on the nano, i passed right from familiar territory into unfamiliar, with the trail that would take me back up the hill to the race start gone. vamoosed. Not In Evidence.

i double-doubled back and ran in nervous circles until i broke down and asked a birdwatching couple i'd now passed 5 times if they knew which trail might take me back to the parking lot. since none of us knew WHICH of the multiple parking lots i meant – "the lot next to the place where my race is starting in 20min" not being much help to anyone – they pointed me toward a trail which went straight up the hill. it wasn't MY trail, though – in fact, it wasn't a people trail at all. it was a deer trail that got narrower and pricklier and then dwindled to nothing.

i backed out of that trail considerably bloodier than i entered it and found another trail that, despite its “closed” sign looked well-used. i trucked down it until i encountered a dog and three children walking with a man who looked trustworthy, that is to say not bleeding nor on the verge of tears. i threw myself at his mercy and he suggested i take the red trail. so i sallied forth 10 steps along the red trail until it forked without clue into 2 divergent directions. i suspected i should go right but consulted the oracle behind me. 'i suspect you go left' - he advised, so i went left and after leapfrogging 3 more walking parties popped out of the same woods the XC course dives into after the open start.

i had enough time to dash to the car, shuck my extra clothes and change my shoes – quite possibly my most flawless transition EVAR – and careened toward the start line while pinning on my number. i heard rudy's voice and ran over to give him a hug but he pushed me away.
- they're starting you. what happened? did you get lost?
- har har har - i chuckled then jostled myself into place on the startline beside his wife. she gave me a Look.
- i got LOST. in the WOODS - i blurted.
- you have twigs. in your hair. and you're bleeding – she responded archly.
- sorry - i said contritely. when racing with ex-olympians one should look one's best and i was picking sticks and leaves out of my ponytail when the startgun sounded.

after that life got a lot simpler. the weathergirl nearly tripped me a couple times zigging in front of me, but after a half-mile she was gone, and mel was breathing on my shoulder up the rocky incline toward maintenance hill but when we crested the climb she too was gone and in front of me were fiona, a chick with long blonde hair and vicki. i could follow every line vicki took, but i sure couldn't run as light and easy as she does.

from the peanut gallery 25yds back i watched vicki gain on the blonde, patience and experience hunting down callow youth. the two of them were abreast after the false flat on the rt 92 segment and i really thought vicki had her, but youth prevailed and had 4sec on experience at the finish.


witness the loot below: a mint New Balance LS shirt, a pair of gloves, 75USD for 3rd place (vicki was scored with the masters women) and a gift certificate for a 30min massage from denise that i won in the post-race raffle. all this for my $18 day-of-race entry fee.


- you know what's funny? - i proposed to laf.
- what.
- well, when I did this race last year F and i ran the course once a week a month before the race, and i did hill intervals on maintenance hill. this year i didn't train for it at all, i've gained 10lbs since worlds, and still i was only 10sec slower this year.
- yeah funny how that works. when i was getting ready for chicago, i was utterly regimented: i ran with a marathon training group, did yasso repeats, and was fanatic about what i ate. i ended up running a half hour off my PR. sometimes it's better to just get out there and run, and not think.

i can assure you that for the next month there won't be much thinking, running, riding or swimming. there'll be a lot of lazing around like a kitty cat, there'll be a week in st. john and there'll be christmas vacation. with the new year will come the realities of an april qualifier for short course du worlds, and Eagleman in june, but give us this month of volunteer slothfulness, forgive us our excesses & forgive them that excess along with us, and lord lead us into temptation.

Monday, November 05, 2007

black dog at the door

8am Hangover Remedy Run with Laf and Young Buck sunday. Laf and i were in the same straits -- my skull got 2 sizes smaller overnight - he insisted -- so Buck let us set the pace. Laf was leading up cellulite hill, where i might have checked out a little.

- see right there - i addressed the nicely rolling haunches before me - did we just pass a bunch of runners going the other way? or did i make that up. because in this condition i'm just not sure.
- yes we did – Young Buck confirmed behind me.
- oh was THAT what that “swoosh” sound was – the haunches mused. Laf was in possibly worse shape than me because his bowels had decided they'd had enough of the previous night's dinner and were determined to expel the lot of it. he darted off trail 4 times in the first 3 miles.

we reached the top of the hill and Buck scampered off while Laf and i paused to reconnect with our lungs. i was starting to feel better. my head still throbbed but i was thankful i hadn't slept through the alarm as i'd been sorely tempted. and i could finally voice a realisation.


- at the end of every season, after my last big race, i don't know if this happens with you, but i get depressed and feel like crap. Laf nodded.
- i was like that after ironman wisconsin.
-
it's like post-partum depression. and so for these past two weeks nothing's had a point and nothing gave me pleasure.
- nothing? - he leered. i let that grounder dribble by.
- okay, almost nothing. there was music this time. but even though i KNOW this will come, as it does every year, it still creeps up and takes over and i start to think this is how it will be from now on. no ups & downs, just gray.
- but then you come out of it.
- yeah, but what if you don't? what if you've used up whatever brings you back and you get stuck?

Laf pulled the rim of his baseball cap down a notch and looked away. the morning sun glanced off his cheek, setting in relief a crosshatch of wrinkles i hadn't noticed before. he looked wrung out. he's living with his parents, his house isn't selling and his soon-to-be ex-wife recently began to exhibit symptoms associated with MS. what brings us back??

Buck reappeared before a bend in the trail and surveyed us silently. i tugged his sleeve gently and we trotted up to Buck.

Monday, October 29, 2007

por A

this morning alexey sokolov won the dublin marathon in 2:09:07; the first female, alina ivanova, finished 20min later. congrats to fa(s)tmammycat, who ran a solidly-paced race, running the last quarter of the race faster than the first. that is how "real runners" run, fastcat.

i ran my first -- and i swear on Z's HoL my ONLY -- marathon 6 years ago, right after i'd had my iliac bypass surgery and needed to test the new plumbing. what better incentive than running a marathon? to increase the likelihood of a Finn Cheering Squad i ran in my hometown, and parents, grandparents and almost-forgotten friends from high school came out to watch.

when my mom and i ran the Race for the Cure a couple weeks ago we talked about my grandfather and the influence he still wields today, 5 years after his passing.
-- i remember the first time i ran the Lady Equitable - my mom said. the Lady E was a 10K that ran through the city's inner harbor. it was a spring rite of passage for my high school track team too, though our coach turned a blind eye because the official stance discouraged road racing during the track season. - and i was SO nervous. i didn't get any sleep the night before and i couldn't eat anything that morning because i thought it would just come back up.
- because you'd never raced 6 miles before?
- no, because your grandfather was there. the running part of the race didn't scare me at all.
- aw mom he would have been happy no matter how you ran.
- finn you don't understand. you were the granddaughter. his relationship with you was much different than mine. you could have been lazy, no-good deadbeat and he would have loved you the same. but he never forgave me and weird sister for not being sons.

that may be so.
and when i crossed the finish line far off the boston qualifying time i'd planned to run, i met no recriminations or awkward silences. just congratulations and helpful hands that wrapped me in mylar and bustled me to a sunny patch where i sought to dispel all the lactic acid in my quads and hamstrings by eating a hootenanny of bananas.

Monday, October 15, 2007

in celebration of: my mum

my mother and i ran our 10th Race for the Cure yesterday. between the 1st and 2nd mile markers was the Univ of Baltimore's marching band, overwhelmingly black and comprised largely of drummers and cheerleaders. long before we saw the band we heard the rumble of tom-toms and bass drums. no john phillips sousa here; it was pure sepultura that made you feel like shucking your shoes, loosing your hair and dancing with utter abandon.

maybe that would have broken the stoniness of P Diddy on bass, with his mirror sunglasses, stone-still torso and cocksure arms that rumbled out a tribal rhythm. we streamed by -- 32,000 runners recognising our mothers, grandmothers, daughters, sisters and friends -- while P gazed out with the impassivity of a roman god.

It's been years since they told her about it
The darkness her body possessed

And the scars are still there in the mirror

Everyday that she gets herself dressed
Though the pain is miles and miles behind her

And the fear is now a docile beast

If you ask her why she is still running

She'll tell you it makes her complete


melissa etheridge - i run for life

Friday, October 12, 2007

countdown to richmond: 1+ week

in the bank is another week, such as it was. getting my ass out the door in the afternoon has become a mental battle, and many times the bike loses out to the hammock. during an ez ride, E attempted to console me.
- it's all just polishing, right? i mean, you're talking about workouts that will give you a fraction of a degree of improvement.
- i suppose.
- really, it's the hours you put in a month ago that are going to help you out in richmond.
an awkward silence ensues.
- you mean the hours i racked up in maine.
- with the gin. yeah, those.

we sensibly abandoned this subject for a discussion about the top-speed of armadillos and whether or not they're capable of "scampering." E says to scamper all you need is legs, while i argued
to afford scamperability there has to be a level of spinal flexibility, which your average armadillo don't got. clearly this calls for more research, pref performed on a beach in st. john with a mojito in one hand and iphone in t'other.

this week i eeked out only one quality workout, a greg watson special [cos i figure who better to (try to) emulate than the duathon world champ several times over]; to wit:
warm up - run 2.5 miles - ride 5 miles - run 2.5 - ride 5 - run 2.5 - cooldown.
this workout's supposed to be done at race pace. it wasn't, but it was done. period.

when i got on the bike, however, i was warmed-up from the run, so i bombed the descent on my twisty, rough road that may resemble parts of the purportedly technical, potholed richmond bike course. as i dodged potholes and shot tangents i thought if this is what richmond's like, the bike will be a blast. hills, tight turns and road challenges may give me a leg up over the Tiny People... unless upon meeting the course's bumps and grates the Tiny People fling their water bottles or Tiny Bodies in front of me, in which case we're all fucked.

so.
it is friday. Eat, drink, and be merry / For tomorrow we die.

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

you do it as long as you can

- two weeks in a row!? - Queen T said to me when i showed up at tuesday nite track. yeah sometimes ppl r ok. LAF was there, and AJ, mcgrunty and teej. i imagine the steeplechaser is doing super-secret stealth training to prep for Trials... a bummer as he is lovely to watch.

coach fischer lays out the two workout options then extends his thanks to those who showed for kim's funeral 2 weeks ago. in his 20 years of coaching, kim's been fisch's only female NCAA champion, and they became good friends after she graduated from UD and settled in wilmington. she died sept 11th, having been in a coma since july '06, when she fell down her stairwell and incurred a C2 spinal injury. she was 43 then.

the viewing and funeral were packed with runners, because outside her sport kim was rather solitary, with a tough, bristly shell that gave way under hours on the trails but not at the water cooler. before the service fisch was drawn and nervous: he was one of 3 to speak about kim's life. it's okay - i told him - we're most of us runners. talk to us as though we're your team. his wife smiled sadly and led him away. i heard a voice at my shoulder pipe - hey finn! - and turned to face theresa, whom i hadn't seen since the XC race last fall. she ran with kim at dickinson high.
- hi theresa. how're you doing?
- did you hear i set an age-group record?!! - coming from theresa, this should not have been a surprise, but i was so distraught after talking to fisch that i shook my head and just walked away.

so thank you all for coming out - fisch is saying as we shuffle nervously before our 1200s - because it's really hard to lose someone that young but seeing familiar faces out there made it easier. i know she's in a better place but she still leaves a big hole behind. ummm, also one of our volleyball coaches was recently diagnosed with ovarian cancer, and it looks like the aggressive kind, so please keep her in your thoughts. enjoy your run. enjoy the night, and enjoy being healthy enough to do this. you won't have this forever, so do it as long as you can.