THE 12 MILES OF CHRISTMAS - 12/24/2014

Fresh off my triumphant return to the racing circuit, next up would normally be the 12 Miles of Christmas training run, sponsored by Runner’s Depot.

The 12 Miles of Christmas originated four years ago, in an effort to give back to the community.  It’s a great way to get in a long run the day before Christmas, and to burn off all of those calories you are about to eat.  All the runners are asked to bring in a toy, which is donated to the Joe DiMaggio Children’s Hospital.  In exchange for the toy, the participants receive a technical shirt, courtesy of Brooks.  I’ve thoroughly enjoyed this run the three years prior, and was looking forward to this year’s event.

Founding Owner Reneé Grant, Co-Owner Chuck Kirsch and General Manager Mike Giacobbe approached me a few months ago to shoot both video and photos for the event.  I have offered my services to Reneé in the past, as I have known her long before she opened the store.  I quickly volunteered Alfred, which thrilled him to no end (especially since he lives close to Homestead).  I decided not to participate in the run, and turn my attention to my craft.  It was probably a good decision, as I was still pretty sore from Mount Dora.

We met up with Reneé, Mike and Chuck around 6am.  The run kicked off around 30 minutes later, and Mike drove both Alfred and me to strategic locations along the course to take photos and video.  I posted 240 photos to my Flickr account, and edited the following video to chronicle the event:



It also occurred to me that this would be a great in-class assignment for my Multimedia Production class, so we shot the following video as well:



Reneé, Mike and Chuck were very pleased and appreciative of the time and effort we put into this project, but the pleasure was all ours…especially around the holidays.

 

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THE MOUNT DORA HALF MARATHON - 12/21/2014

During my convalescing period, I was walking around totally pain-free.  I was cautioned by my brother Mark not to be lulled into a false sense of security, as rest was the only way my partially-torn hamstring was going to heal.  Having this in mind, I did conjure up some target events to monitor my progress. The first of these was The Tamarac Turkey Trot, which was just about four weeks since the tear.  As a loyal reader of my blog, you know that this is the race that started it all for me.  Lindsey and Rachel had both entered the run; if nothing else, I could just run at a slower pace with them.  If all went well, I could start training for the Weston Run For Tomorrow Half Marathon on December 14th.  If I weren’t ready, there was always the 12 Miles of Christmas training run on December 24th.  Forecasting past that, my next race would not be until January 18th in Clearwater.

The Tamarac Turkey Trot is one of the more popular 5K races, with over 2,000 participants.  As we made our way to the starting line, with my hamstring tightly taped, I felt cautiously optimistic.  Once the race started, my optimism quickly betrayed me, as my hamstring stated to hurt within the first quarter-mile of the race.  I was able the run the full 3.1 miles, but it hurt the entire time.  This was obviously unexpected, and visions of withdrawing from my next race were dancing in my head.

On December 12th, just two days before Weston, I went out to test the hamstring for the first time since Turkey Trot.  In my delusional mind, if the hamstring held up, I would try to do nine miles on Saturday, and then attempt Weston on Sunday.  However, since Turkey Trot was such a struggle, I was not expecting any holiday miracles.  To my surprise and delight, I ran a totally pain-free five-mile run, and my master plan was now in full swing.  I didn’t understand how I was able to get that much better in just two short weeks, but I must have been a good boy this year.
 
As I sat in front of my computer, an email caught my attention.  It was for the Mount Dora Half Marathon, which I had run the previous two years.  Since none of my friends had entered this year, I declined as well.  Coincidently, the family and I would be meeting our friends Cyndy and Al in Mount Dora for a mini-vacation.  Even more coincidently, the Mount Dora Half Marathon would be taking place the same time we would be there!  You could smell the smoke burning a mile away.  I would skip the Weston Half Marathon, and spend the week training for Mount Dora.  I only had one week to get myself conditioned, but at the same time, I didn’t want to reinjure my hamstring by overdoing it.  My week of training consisted runs of five, six and nine miles.  From a conditioning standpoint, I was a little winded during my six mile run.  More importantly, I felt pain-free after my nine-mile run on Thursday morning.  After this, I officially declared myself ready for Mount Dora.

We drove to Orlando that night, and spent a couple of days in Disney.  To celebrate our mini-vacation, the ladies and I created a mini-documentary of our trip.



We left for Mount Dora on Saturday morning, which is less than one-hour from Orlando.  We were staying at the Lakeside Inn, which was where the race would start and end.  We walked over to the race expo (for lack of a better term), and picked up my bib and shirt.  The shirt and the medal for this race has always been exceptional; this year did not disappoint.  We met up with Cyndy and Al for lunch, and spent the day walking around.  Mount Dora at night is beautiful, and the festival of lights made for some creative photo opportunities.

 

 

 

 

 I rolled out of bed around 5:30am, and made my way to the starting line with plenty of time to spare.  There were 701 runners entered in the half marathon, with another 403 runners doing the 5K a little later.  There were a few of the Ocala Turtles running the race, but I did not spot any of them.  This is a beautiful course, but a little hilly at some points.  The temperature was around 64 degrees when the race started, and climbed to around 72 degrees when it was all said and done.  I had a very easy and enjoyable time, capped off by my family and friends cheering me on at the finish line.  I ran totally pain-free, and was happy that I could officially put my injury behind me.

Lindsey volunteered to drive home after the race, and I was pretty sore the next day.  I had forgotten what it was like to always be in constant pain.

Oh, the life of an athlete.

 

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ON THE SHELF...FOR NOW

I have been competing in races since 1996; to have this kind of longevity, you need to be fortunate enough not to be injury plagued throughout your running career.  During the turn of the century (first time using this phrase), I was hit with a case of Achilles Tendonitis in my left ankle.  This was caused by the increase of mileage I was putting on my body, as I had just made the jump from 5K races to half marathons.  My brother Mark (who is also my doctor and my savior) fixed me up, and I did not miss any significant race time.  Since then, I have run relatively pain and injury free…until now.  I am about to miss my first race ever (the St. Augustine Half Marathon) because of a partially torn hamstring in my left leg.

About three weeks ago, I noticed that my hamstring was a little tight after running during the week.  It appeared to be nothing more and nothing less.  The following Saturday, I went out for my usual long run.  The plan was to do 13.1 miles, as the St. Augustine Half Marathon was only two weeks away.  I had lost close to 20 pounds this summer, and my running times have reflected my newfound skinniness.  I was looking forward to this race, with the prospect of running with my friends Jen and Mary.  During the Saturday morning run, the hamstring was still a little tight, but nothing that prevented me from running pain-free.  Around three miles into the run…BAM!  The hamstring really tightened up to the point that I could hardly run without limping.  I stopped to stretch it out, which seemed to help a little bit.  I decided to keep running, hoping that the pain and tightness would subside.  This was probably a bad decision.  The tightness and the pain got better, and I decided to “just” run 9 miles instead of the 13.1 I had originally planned on doing.  If this had been a race, I could have completed the additional distance.

Since I am always in half-marathon shape, I decided to rest up during the week, and test the hamstring again on the weekend.  Lindsey wanted to go out for a three-mile run on Friday, which was the perfect opportunity to see how the hamstring would respond.  I ran pain-free, with just a little stiffness.  Based on these encouraging results, I decided to try nine miles on Saturday, which was one week before the race.

It was a typical Saturday morning run, as I was out the door before 5am.  The hamstring felt tight, but nothing out of the ordinary.  About two miles into the run, it occurred to me that I should have put a compression sleeve on my thigh.  I was tempted to go back to get one, but I obviously made the wrong decision.  I was now in Cypress Park, and more than five miles into the run.  As I was circling the soccer fields, the pain came out of nowhere!  This time, it was obvious that I was not going to be able to gut it out, and decided it best to go straight home.  Only one problem…my house is over three miles away from the park!  I considered calling Glenda to come and pick me up, but I knew she was still asleep.  I hobbled back the rest of the way, which was very painful.  I knew this could not be a good thing.

As soon as I got home, I put an ice pack on the hamstring.  I’m pretty sure I should have put the ice pack over my shorts and not directly on the hamstring, as I burned the bejeebers out of my thigh.  Since the race was now one week away, I asked Mark to come over and evaluate the hamstring for me.  I hate to call him about medical issues when he is not in the office, but he was going on vacation this week.  I did not have an appointment scheduled for this week at his office, so I wanted to be very proactive and cautious about the injury.

Mark told me that I had a partially torn hamstring, and the best treatment for this injury was rest.  He said it typically takes four to six weeks to heal, and obviously it would be best if I did not run at all during this time.  When I told him that I had the St. Augustine Half Marathon this weekend, his advice was to test the hamstring out first before committing to the race.  Mark suggested that I wrap it up as tight as possible, and give it a shot this week.  My plan was to wear a compression sleeve, along with athletic tape.  I would wait until Wednesday to run five miles, as this seemed to be the make-or-break point.  Sadly, I could tell that the hamstring was not feeling well enough, and didn’t even bother to test it out.  It was with great reluctance that I officially announced earlier today that I was withdrawing from the race.

Most people tell me that one of my strongest personality attributes is my common sense.  With five more half marathons and possibly one full marathon scheduled in the coming months, I don’t want this race season to end before it starts.  

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MY NORMAL ROUTINE...THEN & NOW

 

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RUNNING SUCKS

 

I think that sometimes we only talk about the good parts of running, as if there weren’t any bad parts. Running sucks. It does. It makes your legs hurt, your lungs hurt, and just about every other part of your body. Your body basically feels like a moving bucket of ouch. You can’t breathe, you sweat in your eyes, you smell gross, and you can’t hang out with your friends because you spend 99.9% of your free time running. Just running. Some days when you do intervals, you want to cry. You want to lay on your back in the middle of the track and scream at the sky because it’s been forever since your times improved and you literally in that moment, want nothing more than to improve. But something keeps you on your feet, and you hobble over to the water station and when your coach tells you to, you get your ass back on the line and you f@^ing run your heart out.

But that is what running is. You hate it, you despise it, but it’s become a part of you. No matter how much it hurts and drives you to the ends of hell and back, you would never let it go. You need it, when you don’t run you feel lost and confused. It makes you cry it makes you angry, but it makes you, you.

Because it is who you are.

From runawaytorender.tumblr.com


 

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A HEALTHY LIFE IS WORSE THAN DEATH

BYUtv warns parents: “Talk to your kids about distance running” in hilarious sketch.



The Truth of Running by GatorJbone

http://runnersbreakfast.com/2014/07/05/byutv-warns-parents-talk-to-your-kids-about-distance-running-in-hilarious-sketch/   

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YOUR "ENCOURAGEMENT" IS SOUL CRUSHING

I HATE when other runners offer words of encouragement to me.  I think it's a total showoff move.  You don't have to remind me that "you're almost there," or that I'm doing a "good job."  At the risk of sounding like a Debby Downer, maybe I would see things differently if I were faster (and let's not get into those runners who have to do a "cool down" run, which is conveniently in the opposite direction of the race).  That being said, Scott Martin of Runners World magazine seems to agrees with me:

Your "Encouragement" is Soul Crushing.
By Scott Martin

I was a little more than two miles into a 5K race and I was hurting. As I crested a small hill, I fought to maintain my pace, hoping to PR, and I was failing miserably. While doing my best to fight off the pain, the urge to quit, and the urge to throw up, I had my soul crushed in six words:

"Nice job, sir, keep it up."

I looked around first for my father because I still can't believe anyone would call me sir. Then I looked for the person who made the comment as they went blazing by me. I had to look down because that person was a young boy, probably no older than 11.

Soul. Crushed.

This kid was making my 5K pace, which I was fighting so hard to maintain, look like an easy jog. My hard effort looked like a recovery run to this little guy.

And there you have it, the reason I do not think it is okay to encourage a stranger as you pass him or her during a race. It's bad enough to get passed during a race; it's so much worse when the person passing you gives you the ole "attaboy" as they make you look like you are standing still.

If you are a spectator or a runner who has finished the race, feel free to cheer all you want. If you are still racing and make me look fat and slow (that's not hard) don't make it worse by verbally bringing it to my attention that you are passing me. And if you do, not be surprised if I mutter something ugly in your direction as I gasp for breath.

You passed me, and I'm not happy. No words are going to help me get over that, unless they are, "hurry up, I'll buy you a beer."

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