A Successful Accomplishment!

Race Day

Well, we did it. Two and a half months of training paid off.  We both ran 6.2 miles when at first we couldn't run 6.2 feet!  Kudos to the YMCA training team for getting us off our lazy butts and getting us out there to give it our best shot.  Mission accomplished!  Let's go to the highlights:

It was cooler than expected last Saturday morning.  We were nervous for different reasons.  I was anticipating VCU's Final Four game against Butler later that evening while wifey was just plain nervous about making it around the course.  Once I did a weather check, I decided to wear my VCU Lycra short sleeved shirt with a warm-up jacket on over it to guard against the morning chill. If I got too hot, I could always take that off.  Staci wore her matching long pants and warm-up jacket sans any VCU attire since a hat would only make her hotter.  We awoke at 6:15 am in anticipation that we would need to get there by 8 but decided to wait until to leave the house until 8.  Bad idea.  Parking for the Monument Avenue 10K is a nightmare when considering you are fighting with 80,000 other people with the same idea.  We ended up parking 4 blocks from the Jefferson Hotel parking lot where we did our weekly warm-ups.  Add another 4 blocks and we finally made it to Monroe Park where all the festivities had conjoined.

It is a real party atmosphere so early in the morn, let me tell you.  Bands were playing, food was being served.  Runners had already finished!   And here we were still over an hour away before we had to get to the starting line.  Now we waited for a friend of ours to join us for almost 45 minutes, sneaking in a quick prayer in the Sacred Heart Cathedral and avoiding the wind.  Once she found us in the morass and five potty breaks between us, we headed for the "corral" which gathered all the runners in their particular group along Broad Street.  This thing is well organized.  There were big signs being held up for each group with ropes breaking the groups apart.  One group moved up to the starting line with the next group 50 feet behind moving up once allowed.  We each had little electronic tags wrapped around our shoe laces so that we would be timed as we crossed the starting line, then at 3 miles, then again at the finish--very cool technology!  Our friend ran in my group since she had signed up for the wrong one--theoretically you're supposed to go in the group as fast or as slow as you.  I guess walkers don't count because they were mingled in every single group!

I heard the starting line thing beep when I crossed over it at 9:47 am, said goodbye to my friend as the runners began to thin out to begin the race, and off I went.   We ran west along Broad Street for just a couple of blocks before turning left onto Lombardy next to Stuart Circle then headed west again along Monument Avenue toward Chantilly Avenue 3 miles away.  What a sight!  Lines of people on either side of the roadway with their Bloody Mary's and Mimosa's nestled in between local bands jamming away at every block it seemed.  No one was sleeping in this morning if you lived in the neighborhood!  As usual I found my 4.7 mph pace pretty quickly and settled into the run.  Almost immediately I became aware that I'd be doing a lot of walker dodging.  They were supposed to walk to one side to allow the actual runners a clear path, but that memo must have been lost in the shuffle.  There were walkers from the very beginning of the race, walking ten abreast across the road making me have to jump up on the curb or grass to get around them.  So much for a casual jog.  I had to be fully alert and anticipate my path around these strollers almost constantly.  I thought this was just gonna be a temporary situation but it was fairly constant throughout the "race".

Well, I did enjoy the scenery and the spectacle of seeing 40,000 runners running/jogging/walking up and back Monument Avenue.  The crowds were great; very supportive and entertaining to say the least.  This is basically Richmond's unofficial start of Spring, a right of passage for the young, a tradition for everybody else that lives here.  Seems the whole city turns out for it as the parking situation can attest to that!  My so called "strategy" was to start out slowly and run consistently throughout the race, only stopping for the briefest of moments to slug down water as it came available.  Thank GOD that came at mile 2.  Although the weatherman threatened intermediate showers throughout the morning the sun shown down brightly and the wind cooled down my beast-sweat which started running freely after the first mile (that went by REALLY fast I thought).  The water kept my mouth from puckering from over parchment and my lips from peeling completely off from wind-borne chapness.  This altered my strategy somewhat to ensure I was well hydrated throughout, although I had downed a big thing of Xtend before I left the car--no wonder I had to pee so much!

I never thought about my calf or Achilles acting up even when my legs started to get sore.  I just kept up my steady pace passing way more than getting passed.  The turn around came way down past 195 and Carytown on Chantilly Avenue which is a quite tree lined neighborhood that I suppose is deemed the beginning of the West End of Richmond.  More water at the funny 3.1 mile sign gave me a boost with the knowledge I was half-way home and thinking that all this preparation was only for an hour of my time on this Saturday morning.  So I soaked in the sights as best as I could trying valiantly not to let my achy legs or tiredness distract from the moment.  I skipped the water stop at mile 4 thinking I didn't want to be water logged or have to stop and pee before I was finished.  I should have stopped!  By mile marker 5 I was dreaming of water.  The wind made for a two-fold problem:  if it was blowing, it cooled me down from my monster sweating, but it also chapped my lips to the point that I was using all my spit just to keep them semi-moist.  If the wind died down my temperature rose like the gauge on an overheating radiator.  I liked the jacket on my arms to keep me warmer when the wind blew, but when it stopped I was ready to strip down to my soaked undies!  Hence the water break at mile 5 was a godsend.

Anyway, my next thought was simply to finish.  I wasn't going to break any speed records and all I really wanted to do was break an hour but that didn't quite happen.   I was back on familiar training territory for that final mile.  We had run this route many times before on many prior Saturdays.  Now I was counting the hills I had yet to traverse before I could see the Academic campus and the finish line.  It was there soon enough though I had no reserve kick to really try and beat an hour.  I finished in 67 minutes which was the time for the grouping ahead of the one I originally picked.  Perhaps that one won't have so many walkers?  I'm thinking I ran close to 7 miles due to all the weaving I had to do, well, at least that's my story to explain my under an hour failure!

I was never so relieved to cross that finish line after the race, only to be herded like a cow to slaughter toward the water table and a nice cold bottle.  Heaven.  I remembered to keep moving so not to cramp so I made my way over to the food stand to down a banana, Poweraid and a dry bagel (for carbs?).  Then I found a dry spot on a slight hill next to the A-E meeting sign to sit and eat and ponder.  Our friend that started in my group with me finished 15 minutes after I had begun my rest where I had started to stretch out some stiffness.  We made another round through the food stand and timed when we thought the wife would be finishing.  She showed up about 15 minutes afterward and just like that, we had completed our first 10K.  More food and wandering followed but almost immediately, the sun disappeared and the clouds gathered just on cue for us to begin the long walk back to the car.  Perfect timing for the crowd was getting annoying or rather, I was over it.  Time to celebrate with a beer and Sushi!  We dropped our friend off at her car which was parked deep in the Fan near Sticky Rice then made for the bar and a well deserved respite.  Our other friend who started us on this journey in the beginning met us there (she had ran earlier and had went home to shower) and we all extolled our efforts of crossing off a bucket list item.  Home, bath and a nap were never more welcomed when we finally got back around 2 that afternoon.  My legs were most definitely sore and my back felt like I'd been beaten.  My feet were fine though, thanks to wrapping the blistered areas in moleskin and athletic tape.  

So now what you may say?  Well, we've got the bug to continue this type of exercise for the foreseeable future.  Staci already has us scheduled to run in a 5 K and another 10K in May.  Add to it the Warrior Run in October and it looks like we're on our way to being "runners".  I guess this is working.  A friend of mine asked me the other day where the other half of me went!  Wifey has me on a diet and a schedule to go to the gym and/or run in the evenings after work.  I just need to recoup a bit more, eh?  Does that mean I'll continue to write on this?  Perhaps.  I accomplished what I set out to do and I didn't die in the process.  I managed to discover new aches and pains I thought I couldn't or wouldn't get from simply running, but the old bod just ain't what it used to be.  It's getting better.  Maybe not to the point of being a teenager but much better than it was back in December--a 250 lbs oaf!  We'll keep this up for sure, for it's made for way better sleep, a healthier bank balance and just a better mood all around.  I suggest you try this or something similar.  You won't die.  I promise!

Peace!

And DOWN the stretch he comes!

Week 10

Ok, I know it's been a few weeks since last writing, but I was in Vegas last week on a guys trip to bet on the first week of March Madness and now VCU has shocked the world by winning FIVE games to make it to the Final Four!  Who woulda thunk it??  Needless to say, my training regimen has taken a back seat to such events, but I gotta say my stomach has gone down and the scale did say I lost ten pounds. Guess it was the HUNDREDS of miles of walking one has to do to get anywhere on The Strip.  No matter what shoes I wore, my legs were sore and my feet blistered as if I was walking on hot coals.  Even my snazzy running shoes didn't help!  I had brought my running clothes with every intention of running the six miles I was missing with the training group, but alas, that didn't happen.  I blame Jack Daniels, but don't tell him I said that!

Yesterday I did hit the treadmill for a 2.5 miles before I got a re-blister.  That worries me a tad but I think the socks I had on were susceptible to rubbing that already raw area, thanks to my Vegas strolls.  Wifey says I'm to get some "mole skin" and wrap it when getting dressed at the crack o' dawn on Saturday morning.  The trainers are inundating my email with reminders about getting our packets either today or tomorrow, having our clothes ready, where to park, etc.  I think I'll be ok.  Yesterday's run was easy and I don't think I suffered much from the layoff.  My breathing was still easy and my pace actually was quickening to around a 10 minute mile.  I still sweat like a pig in heat but that's to be expected.  I would have ran farther if that blister didn't give me a cause for concern.  No matter, I think I'm ready.

We're to rest the rest of the week and get plenty of rest before Saturday.  Pasta is on the menu for Friday night to load up on carbs.  Fine by me!  Then the race which you know I will give you a full recount!  So then, what have I learned going into the finale just two short days away?  Well, I've learned that my body is not what it once was, but whose is?  I've learned that exercise does pay off if you stick with it; even when you're tired, not in the mood, the weather stinks, the gym is full, or whatever other excuse fits--you just have to make the time and dividends will begin to show.  I've learned that the party cannot last forever.  No matter what your mind tells you, your body WILL let you know that you aren't 25 anymore!  I suppose the great nine year revelry of getting back with Staci and celebrating every free weekend (then weeknight!) was indeed taking its toll.  Young at heart and mind doesn't equate to young in body if you don't take care of it.  These past few months have cemented that thought.

My best advice for anyone thinking about scratching off a bucket list item is to DO IT!  Every day above ground is a good day and each new morning is one day closer to the end of the line.  There really is no time like the present to get out there and try.  We ain't getting any younger.  The human body is an amazing machine and it reacts to what you do to it as well as for it.  I figure this has only helped me keep me above ground for a bit longer at least, not that it was coming anytime soon!  Staci is so stoked that she wants to continue entering other races and keeping up our training now that the days are longer and eventually warmer.  She even ordered Nutrisystem to slice away even more lbs's before we head to the beach this summer.  "We are NOT gonna be the fat people at the beach this year"' she exclaimed as she drove out of sight.

Fine by me baby, fine by me.

Viva Las Vegas, Baby!

Week 8

I was solo this past week while wifey-poo was busy in Atlanta being a SunTrust employee extraordinaire.  My intentions to continue the proscribed training regimen were all good but they didn't come to pass.  It seem to pay off with the extra rest as my 5 mile run this past Saturday was better than the previous one by seven minutes.  Looks like at 45, I need more time to recoup from these long runs since before I was ending up hurting myself without allowing enough time between workouts.  Weight lifting might be one thing, since you work out different sets of muscles, but running is running no matter how you slice it.  My legs and especially calf just weren't recuperating fast enough following the regular running schedule.  Some might think this lazy, I think of it as strategically ensuring I won't be or get hobbled come time for the real race.

Even though I was alone, I woke up Saturday at the normal 6:30 am alarm, had my coffee and made a batch of Xtend to get cold so I could down it upon returning home.  The weather was a bit nippy but nothing I wouldn't soon forget since I sweat like a pig anyway.   I learned from last week not to wear two pairs of long sleeved shirts (shirt and warm up jacket) since I got WAY hot.  This time I just had my VCU football shirt and warm-up over it and a pair of shorts.  All were properly soaked through by the time I finished.  Our original inspiration for even doing this run, Meagan, decided to run with me even though she's in the advanced runner group that was supposed to do seven mile.  She started to run with her group but didn't feel well so she decided to come along for our run once she felt better.  I blame the pizza we had for dinner the night before!

Our route had us going out the familiar way on Monument Avenue but then we crossed through the upper Fan over to Floyd Avenue to head back to the Jefferson. My only concern other than the bumpy sidewalk was I started getting a blister on the arch of my left foot about 4 miles in.  I fought through this annoyance but I did need to make a couple of repairs to my foot upon further review.  Good news was I finished in about 53 minutes which I attributed to not stopping at all this time, except for one water break the trainers had but out at the 2 mile mark.  I also have to love that my stamina remained intact despite not running during the week and, in fact, improved.  I didn't have any outrageous soreness in my calf, just the normal aching from pounding my legs into concrete for the better part of an hour.

So now comes the true test:  I've got a guys trip to Las Vegas this Wednesday through Monday.  I'm gonna miss the 6 mile run here but need to duplicate it somewhere out there.  Nothing like a little morning jog into the desert to see how much booze I can sweat off, eh?  Meanwhile, I think with Daylight Savings Time finally here, I've got more time to do a run after work thereby keeping my stamina going before I fly off early Wednesday morning.  At least VCU made the tournament, so I can proudly display my colors out west.  If they lose, I can always use it as a sweat rag!

It's MADNESS I tell you!

Week 6-7

Yes, it's been awhile since I last wrote, but only because there was nothing to write about!  Last time we were with our superhero, Art had injured himself yet again on the indoor track, duplicating his pulled calf muscle fiasco.  That was a week ago last Thursday, so he decided on a self-imposed hiatus of no physical activity until the pain completely vanished.  There was no Saturday morning run, no after work gym dates, no cross training of any kind until all hints of muscled twinges ceased and desisted. 

No lie, I was limping around through the whole weekend, doing the RICE treatments, drinking Xtend and basically allowing a full recovery before trying to run again.  So it was an interesting moment to actually get my million dollar running shoes back on again and attempt the dreaded 5 mile run last Saturday morning.   The weather was still cool but sunny and there was a good sized crowd of trainees still in attendence in the Jefferson hotel parking lot at the 8 o'clock hour.   After our standard warm-up, we followed in line like sheep to the slaughter and headed out back toward Monument Avenue, only this time no turning around until we had run all the way to Thompson Street which is at the head of Carytown! 

Surprisingly, the first couple of miles were the normal breeze.  I settled into my comfort zone leaving wifey and the rest of the slower ones behind as I found my space apart from the others.  I was very aware of my calf and meticulously monitored any hints of twinging or pain as I stepped gingerly on and off curbs when crossing the streets at each block.  I wasn't trying for any land speed records, that's for sure, but I did want to test my stamina since it'd been over a week since I last ran.  Funny how you pass landmarks that used to be the turning pints from lesser milage runs from weeks past and remembering how tired I was when I first started on this quest.  Now I was zipping by them thinking how completely out of shape I was then, and though I'm no triathelte, I'm better now than then, that's for sure. 

Well that thought all changed when I crossed the Boulevard which used to be the three mile turn around point.  I got real winded after crossing that street and running into virgin territory I had not yet experienced.  We had missed the 4 mile run from the previous week and I had no idea where that turnaround point was but I kept slogging away hoping Thompson Street showed up quickly.  I didn't.  I was nearing the end of my rope, in deep need of a breather when, out of nowhere, I saw the lead group crossing the street and heading back for home base.  Thank GOD!  I was just about to hit the breaks and walk for a few, but seeing that re-energized my motivation, plus I didn't want to look like a wimp walking past the trainers helping us with traffic. 

It was a good thing I wore running shorts instead of warm-up pants.  I had the new matching warm-up jacket on top of a long sleeve lycra workout shirt thingy.  No hat, no gloves, just my iPod in my hand since it jiggled around too much in no matter what pocket I tried to put it in.  I was definitely burning some ass-fat calories as my soaking shirt atttested, sweat seeping through to discolor my warm-up jacket as well.  I tried to look for wifey from across the road but no dice.  Monument Avenue is a tree-lined road with a large median between the two-lanes heading in each direction.  Large monuments were erected at intersections from long ago espousing heros from the Lost Cause.  I have a picture book of Richmond from 1865-1970 that shows the Lee Monument in a great large empty expanse as the Richmond Howiter's fired a volley for some sort of celebration from 1907.  What is now full of brick mini-mansions and huge trees was then a great big field with no real visable sight of a Richmond skyline.  Kinda weird, but this was what I was thinking about as I tried to focus on anything but the searing fire that was once my legs.

I was definately losing steam on the return trip back to the parking lot.  I finally succumbed to the overwelming desire to walk for a bit, letting some ladies pass me by and figuring they didn't have as much weight to haul as me.  A guy bigger than me passed me too telling me I'll catch up to him soon enough when he had to take his 'break' and sure enough it wasn't soon after that I did when I resumed my agony.  This actually happened a few times on the way back.  I'd stop, he'd pass me.  He'd stop, I'd pass him.  Never did re-pass any ladies but one though....must be an estrogen complex.  Eventually I decided that I needed to suck it up and once I got back to the VCU campus I finished out the run without walking again.  I was stoked to find out there wasn't THAT many people ahead of me after 5 miles of self-induced torture.  What was better though was my calf had not given me any discernable problems.  I walked and sipped water so not to give my body any chance to begin a full body cramp if allowed to sit and rest, waiting for wifey.

I waited for a good 10 minutes or so before finally seeing her silhouette emerge from Monroe Park in the distance.  She was struggling, but maintaining form as she made the last few hundred yards up the slight incline.  It as by far her longest run ever in her life and it showed.  Still, she was ever-so proud of the accomplishment regardless of her newly acquired hip, hamstring and achilles pain.  After a few cups of water and finding what time it was, we managed to figure out I'd made the run in around an hour and hers around an hour and fifteen perhaps.  Good stuff considering if I had a gun put to my head, I'd could have probably squeezed out another mile and thusly successfully finishing a 10K.  However, my goal of finishing in less than an hour had me wondering if that was realistic considering how I felt.  Then again, it had been nine days since I last did any running/exercise so I'm figuring a recommittment to the training regimine for the rest of this month might actually get me to attaining that goal?  So long as I don't walk any part of the course, I might have half a chance.

Well, that being said, wifey is in Atlanta for a week for work so who knows how she'll get in any workouts with daily traffic jams from her parents house where she's staying consumming hours of commute time both to and from.  I'm going solo this week and am thinking road work if the weather holds might be a better suit for me.  Else the gym again and the dreaded treadmill--no more tracks!  Daylight savings time is this weekend so I know the sun won't go down until later in the evening which will make after work runs more viable.  We shall see.  It's a tough call when I can actually have the remote all week long, too!

One step forward, two steps back!

We've been trying to stick with the training regimen as proscribed, but sometimes life gets in the way and we end up making up for lost time, and that might be a problem.  Wifey was off Monday and ended up grouting the pantry floor.  This made her knees hurt like hell so it was understandable she wanted to recoup before running 3 miles on them.  I wasn't going to complain since I was still feeling the 4-miler from last Saturday.  One more day of rest could only be a good thing, right?

So we switched days and ran on Tuesday instead.  Back to the old treadmill for 3 miles but this time new pains emerged.  Knees and back, which have never given me any trouble in my entire life, began to throb and moan silently, but I toughed it out and got the 3 miles in thankfully.  Staci was still at her pace and finished a few minutes after me.  Even she was complaining of knee and back aches which I told her was from her pantry project.  We decided we'd do our cross training on Wednesday and then our 4 mile run on Thursday, thus being caught up and primed for our Saturday group run. 

Well, Wednesday came and went and it was I that was in no mood to go cross train since my knees and back were still acting up.  Even the Xtend was not helping much.  This was getting ridiculous. Our age was not going to allow us to train properly because our bodies were in a constant state of repair?  Ok, no worries, we'll get a day of rest before going for it on Thursday for a complete 4 mile run.  Now it said it was to be an easy four miles.  Don't know who thought running four miles is supposed to be EASY! Both of us were resigned to the fact that we'd attempt this without reservation and get back on track.

No one needs to tell anybody that after a long hard day at work, relaxing is the first thing to come to mind when one gets home.  It was a rainy Thursday evening, too damp and dark to try and run outside, which was the original plan.  So we donned our workout attire in true gym-rat fashion and headed to the gym to hit the track since the treadmill and I are not on speaking terms.  Our route takes us upstairs in this monstrosity of a gym to a bank of innumerable day lockers spread out throughout the place.  We placed our jackets and the like in a couple, locked them up with the handy-dandy code lock system that reminds me of being in Vegas with the room safes, and headed over to the indoor track to stretch.  After ensuring my calves were still in no pain, I lurched myself into the middle lane to get the 35 or so laps over with as fast as possible.  Wifey started at a walk to limber up but I thought I'd try to will the stiffness out of my hips and back by jogging at an easy pace.

I must say our training has gotten our stamina up; I wasn't even breathing hard until the fourth lap.  I didn't even start sweating until the eighth.  And then it happened....again!  I was rounding the turn going outside of a slower runner then heading down the back-stretch when that all too familiar 'boing' feeling struck my left calf again in the exact same place that I thought I'd healed just a few weeks before.  I wasn't going fast or anything, just at the same comfortable pace I've been doing for weeks now.  Immediately I pulled up and rubbed the spot hard in hopes it was just a cramp.  No such luck.  I tried to work it out by running a few more feet; it only tightened up more.  Wifey came up behind me and I told her my grim news.  Same spot, same pain.  I told her to keep going while I tried to walk through it in hopes of getting back to a jog.  But with each step I took, the muscle just tightened up more and more, to the point that I was limping more pronounced with each step.  ARGH!!!!!

Well, that was that.  I gimped off the track in disgust and headed to a bike machine to see if that would work since I was sweating freely now and I wanted to at least make this gym trip worthwhile and try and burn a few more gut calories.  I did a 30 minute, 7.5 mile stint on a stationary bike while Staci followed me over to a treadmill soon after to finish her run since the track was killing her knees.  At least she got her miles in.  I, on the other hand, was not so fortunate.  The bike kept my sweat going but my breathing wasn't labored in the least and I felt cheated that I hadn't worked out as I thought this trip was going to produce.  All my thoughts soon turned to what I needed to do to repair this pain--rest, ice, compression and elevation.  Back to the couch I go, ice bag on my calf raised above the heart, wifey serving me turkey burrito while my mood sunk.

Long and the short of it looks like I'll be missing the run tomorrow morning and perhaps Monday as well.  I HAVE to get this thing healed.  My worst fear is to have this happen in the middle of the 10K and have to limp for miles to the finish, or even worse, quit.  If that happens, I'm doomed!  If I can't even run, what's left to try and get rid of this gut?  Diets bore me after awhile.  Yoga/Pilates are too feminine.  Sports are what I've done and enjoyed so I guess that leaves only swimming.  With my luck I'll break a heal doing a flip-turn or a wrist touching the wall!  I'm running out of options here people.  Suggestions, ANY suggestion is welcome at this point.

Man I need a drink!

And miles to go before I sleep!

Week 5

This past Saturday broke warm and sunny albeit a bit windy, but easily the best morning so far for these group runs.  This time is was a 4-miler up Monument Avenue to the Boulevard and back. I was feeling the best I had felt physically for this since this endeavor began.  No calf pain, no swimming soreness, nada.  It was funny to see the patrons of the Jefferson looking out their $500/night bedroom windows to see 100 or so people screaming in unison to the cadence of our warm-ups.  I actually started dead last from the pack when we set out since I needed to help a fellow iPod user figure out how to turn on her Rhapsody music library.  I failed.

As always, I had to navigate my way through the morass of people to find a spot where I could settle into my pace.  This took until I was almost to Stuart Circle, then the wind and fun really began!  There is an ever so slight uphill grade going out toward the Boulevard.  Add a nice headwind to the mix and it took no time for intense labor-like pains to develop.  I fought the urge to stop maybe a dozen times, but maintained my plodding concentrating intensely on my iPod music and watching the ground to prevent any missteps.  I only had to stop twice for traffic, much to my chagrin.  My legs had memorized their own momentum and when stopping I had this weird sense that I was still moving.  That was ever so odd!  At least I had the "downhill" portion of the run to look forward to....

So yes, I did the whole 4 miles without stopping to walk.  I did get passed by a few women who seem to pace themselves better than I but I was still near the front of the group by the time I finished.  What was really surprising was that it was just 9 o'clock which meant I did the whole run in like 45 minutes!  That's around 11 minutes per mile which is a milestone in this ongoing saga.  About 5 minutes later our 20-something goomah showed up and then wifey five minutes after her.  Meanwhile I was sipping on water since I hadn't the spit in my mouth to actually gulp it.  I gargled a few mouthfuls to get some moisture back in my mouth while waiting and walked around in circles, not wanting to sit for fear of being stuck in that position forever.  Great news was that my calf had no pain at all rather, my hips were feeling especially used and abused.  Still, I'll take arthritic hips any day over snapped sinews.

Looks like the training regimen is doing it's job.  Our stamina is definitely improving, our weight is beginning to drop and our sleeps are totally restful.  I think this week has us training for 3.5 miles today and Wednesday with another four mile run next Saturday.  This shouldn't pose any real danger I would think.  If I did it once, I can do it again, right?  That is if the ol' bod allows it.  I'm hoping we can actual run outside so long as the weather and daylight cooperate.  Treadmills are already my nemesis and I'd much rather run somewhere with a view.  I'll update ya later this week with how that goes by swim cross-training day.  Egads, I'm starting to sound like a runner!  Oh the horrors!

Keep on the Sunny Side of Life

It'd been four days since my last attempt at any physical activity in order to allow for some healing to my left calf/Achilles that is not allowed to snap.  We're out of Xtend until the next shipment arrives so I did the RICE advise and laid low until Wednesday.  I did have pseudo-excuses:  Monday was Valentines Day so I took wifey to TJ's at the Jefferson for a nice dinner.  Tuesday I had my uncles half-court tickets for the VCU-George Mason basketball game; what a waste of time THAT turned out to be!  So Wednesday I was driving home from work admiring the sunset as I crossed the Lee Bridge overlooking the James Rivah and thought I should enjoy the warming weather and try a jog before dark to see whether or not my four days of R&R was helping out anything.  Wifey had bought me a new warm-up jacket to repel dog hair attraction and some matching shorts for V-Day so I thought I'd give it a whirl and take a tour around the neighborhood that is usually reserved for our dog-walking exploits.

Yes, I did stretch a LOT beforehand and once across Semmes Avenue and the evening rush-hour traffic I proceeded to test the calf with a nice easy jog.  This route had me running down 30th Street towards the river then turning down Riverside Drive and heading into Forest Hill Park where bike trails are aplenty.  Reedy Creek runs through Woodland Heights, down into a rocky gorge that would have been my playground haven had I been living in Richmond when I was ten, into Forest Hill Park Lake (or pond) which is dammed with an overflow, then heads toward the James.  There's a nice wide path next to this part of the creek surrounded by woods which has you wondering if you are really in the middle of a city since you can't hear anything but running water and chirping birds.  The Lake has a path around its circumference with trails and paths pealing off at all sorts of intervals.  This 105-acre site was once a training ground for the Virginia 7th Regiment during the Civil War and later the end of the line for the Richmond Trolley.  Of course this was total country back in those days when Holden Rhhodes owned the property way back when.  Reminds me of Europe for some reason with its stone pathways and Victorian era ambiance.

Enough of the history lesson though.  This route is hilly.  What better to test my lack of endurance and pain threshold then by going up and down these hills, eh?  It's weird but once your body gets used to running your breathing and sweating seem to hit autopilot and it's barley noticeable other than the rhythmic pounding of my footsteps.  I was actually surprised my stamina hadn't suffered to much from the layoff.  I was able to get over the river and through the woods, so to speak, until I had to hump it up a majorly steep hill that took me to the top of the park next to a large picnic area.  Even having to walk up this steep grade had me huffing and puffing like the big bad wolf.  Once back to level ground I resumed my jog following the black path that winded me through the upper echelons of the park, back down toward Semmes and homeward bound.  I tried to measure the mileage with Google maps but it only measures roads, so we had to guesstimate, figuring around two miles based on how long it took me from leaving to getting back home.   Best part was I was only winded from the run but the rest of me felt ok.  No pain in my calf or legs although my lower back was a bit sore from the downhill pounding it wasn't used to.  I was sweaty but not water-logged.  I guess the falling temperatures as I beat dusk home had something to do with that.

Now Staci had made up her missed run last Monday by running 3 miles at the gym on Tuesday when I was at the basketball game.  So we were out of sync with our proscribed training regimen.  We got back on track last night when I did my cross-training swimming of 25 laps while she doggedly pursued 3.5 miles on the treadmill.  I think I got the better of the deal.  The pool was a tad more crowded (I had to share a lap lane) but the reward when finishing my swim was again playing in the whirlpool and sitting in a 110 degree hot tub allowing my muscles to atrophy to the point of soup.  I also pointed my calves right on the jets thus getting a massage effect to loosen them up even more.

Now this is not to say I have returned to my pre-twenties swimming form.  FAR from it.  I do not do 25 laps in a row without stopping.  Usually I do 100 meters (4 laps) at a time, rest for 30 seconds, then do another 100.  I try to a lap of each stroke though butterfly is a bitch trying to get my fat ass out of the water so my arms will swing properly.  Of course there is always some 'professional' swimmers effortlessly plowing through 200 individual medleys at quarter speed, which, once upon a time, I could do, too.  But 25+ years later, not so much!  At least my arms didn't stiffen up so fast this time.  I was able to get through the swim pretty easily.  Mostly I was just trying to keep my stamina building.  I'm not trying to train for the next Olympics or anything.

After my uber-relaxing hot tub soak I dressed and found the wife plugging along a few laps from her 3.5 mile jaunt.  Surprisingly I was more tired than I would have thought.  I was still sweating a bit as I waited.  She eventually finished, a sweaty mess that is usually reserved only for me.   Dinner was later than normal since we didn't get home until after 8.  No worries, we weren't really that hungry.  Bed was calling to us both ever so sweetly and I was dreaming within moments of my head hitting the pillow.

Up next is the daunting task of doing FOUR miles this Saturday morning.  We're taking a stroll up and down Monument Avenue all the way to the Boulevard and back.  This should be interesting.  The weather is supposed to be great (hopefully no wind this time!).  I'm gonna make a point to run in the grass to cushion the impact as much as possible.  I just hope the dog-walkers picked up!  No need ruining my shoes with that after I just finished having them dry out from the monsoon we had to run through the other week.  I'd like them to look semi-fresh when we do the 10K for real in six weeks!

Depression now sets in

Week 4

Last Saturday dawned sunny and a bit milder, although windy and still cold.  But it is winter after all so I should be used to this by now. I was hoping the two days of rest would heal my left calf/Achilles enough so that I could make the 3 mile loop up Cary Street and back down Main but, alas, as soon as we warmed-up with jumping jacks I knew that familiar twinge would be my undoing.  I got the old iPod going and found my rhythm around the morass as we headed into a pretty stiff headwind.  My hands needed gloves and my calf needed more rest, but I am stubborn and pushed through the dull ache determined to make a good showing.  Running into the wind is tiring.  This was not as easy as last week and the slight uphill grade for the outward portion of the loop had my breathing labored fairly quickly.  At least the homeward bound portion was slightly downhill so I had hopes that I'd get this run in regardless of the increasing agony.

Well, probably with a half-mile to go I knew I was done-for.  My iPod froze in the middle of a song and I stopped to walk to try and bang it into starting again.  No such luck.  So I stuffed the earphones in my pocket and started back up.  Bad idea.  Within 100 feet of doing so I felt the nagging twinge grow from an annoyance to a full blown OUCH!  I guess my calf thought I was done.  Problem was I was still a ways away from the finish, let alone my car.  My limp grew more and more pronounced as I hobbled down the brick sidewalk.  Everyone ended up passing me, some slowing to find out if I was ok.  A trainer asked about me and I related my past Achilles injury and how this felt like what my repaired tendon once felt like just before popping.  I simply cannot afford to have this one tear, too.

So in the end and after many respites along the way to rest my aching hips that had to compensate for my gimpy leg, I hobbled up the hill back to the Jefferson parking lot, past the water cooler and t-shirt stand and kept what little momentum I had straight to the car leaving my wife and two twenty-something friends wondering how bad off I really was.  I was never so happy to get to my car so I could finally sit down and never so depressed that my body had failed me in the simplest of tasks.  I suppose my legs just aren't supposed to support the gargantuan I have become.

I followed wifey's advice and RICE: rest, ice, compression and elevation.  This was only after I curled up in a sweaty ball and tried to sleep away my sadness.  When I awoke Staci got me situated on the couch before heading out to get her hair done.  After having my leg suffer some frostbite I took a shower and returned to my doldrums on the couch. Deep down I knew this was an inevitability since last Wednesday's snafu on the treadmill and my mood was telling leading up to Saturday's run.  I was definitely worried about a potential repeat involving a severed Achilles so, as all males do, I masked my fear with an ease-to-anger and a short temper.  Of course I don't consciously realize this subconscious survival tactic but everyone else around me did.  As all good wives do, she continuously asked me what was wrong and was obviously validated afterward.  Men are such hard-heads.  Sunday we took the dogs for a long walk in the park to enjoy the 60 degree weather and my legs and hips were still feeling it for having to compensate for my calf.  I was whipped by the time we got home.

So now I'm at a crossroads.  I obviously need to get this leg checked out and do something other than the training runs until I can log the miles without my calf shredding.   Swimming seems like an obvious choice.  Perhaps doing 30 minute to hour workouts in the pool will keep my stamina growing and maybe even help me shed some of this behemoth drinking gut.  I'm running out of ideas to try and get back to a normal weight.  Diets work at first but then get boring.  Staci cooks to well to forever be on a damn diet!  Weight lifting bores me without someone else to do it with.  I seem to hurt myself running.  I must me a complete doofus for that to happen!  I'm getting too aged to play any sports I like obviously now that I can't even do the simplest thing like run!

Perhaps I am just destined to be a once-upon-a-time athlete.  That is too depressing even to think of, let alone write about.

Snap, Crackle, Pop!

One would think that after almost 3 weeks into this training regimen the ol' bod would begin getting used to the usage of previously neglected body parts.  Well I'm here to tell you they're not!  It's almost comical that less than 100 feet from the finish line of my 2.5 mile treadmill run last night my left calf seized, shooting all too familiar pain signals that my Achilles tendon was ready to snap at any second.  Such a novice I am at treadmill running that trying to hop on one foot while trying to stop the darn thing was a sight to behold I'm sure.  Thankfully, I was able to slow the thing down so I could walk the last few yards thereby reaching the finish whilst dripping wet in my too short yellow Lycra Underarmour shirt and circa 1980's Adidas gym shorts. 

For those of you that have never suffered a torn Achilles tendon injury I can tell you they are no fun.  Imagine having the sudden sensation of someone hauling off and cracking the back of your lower leg with a baseball bat.  One minute you're standing, the next you are looking around behind you looking for the ass that ran into the back of you, but lo and behold there's nobody there!  Then the pain hits you in a delayed reaction with such a surge you are wishing upon all the stars above you could turn back time to 10 seconds ago.  First you stand up to see if your leg is broken or if you just have a sever cramp you can walk off.  Then you come to find out your foot doesn't move.  You can stand but you ain't walking.  You then slowly realize something is definitely wrong and that sickening feeling of dread, worry and faintness starts to overcome you.  Long story short, you get to make an appointment for outpatient surgery, put your leg in a cast for 4-6 weeks, then a walking boot for another month before you get to do painful stretching exercises for the next six to nine months.  The only good news about the whole event is that now you have a bionic tendon that will never rip again.

Such was my mind-set I had immediately upon the pain hitting me last night.  Once I was able to limp off the treadmill and wipe it down I gimped around the gym trying to shake it off as wifey finished up her run.  I sat in my sweat watching the indoor soccer junkies while rubbing my calf trying to pinpoint the pain center.  Bingo!  It was high up the tendon, near the base of my calf, right where I had felt tightness years before playing volleyball before my right one snapped back in 2007.  I did some pseudo-deep tissue massage trying to relieve the tension until Staci showed up with a look of genuine concern.  I'm sure she doesn't want a repeat of me needing to be waited on for a month or more, having to help me up and down stairs, into the bath, putting on my socks--you know, basically being an invalid.  I gingerly dressed back into my warm-up pants and fleece jacket then gimped my way down the stairs ever slowly slowly and out into the cold night air.  How I wished I had parked the car closer!

Ice, aspirin and Xtend were applied and downed when I got us home.  Staci made some grilled chicken wraps for dinner (very yummy and light) then we watched The Expendables.  What a bunch of past action heroes all on the screen at the same time!  It was surprising to see so many, but the movie was just alright.  Nothing great.  Meanwhile, I tried not to sulk too much about being injured when I have another 3 mile run looming in a few days.  I gotta start getting my stamina up which is what I was attempting to do last night.  I walked for the first quarter lap to warm up (most likely not NEARLY enough) then upped the speed to 5 to 5.3.  My goal was to try and get the miles in under 12 minutes.  For the longest time I was just cruising.  No pain, no labored breathing, just a nice comfortable rhythm as I watched ESPN news and listened to my iPod.  I did take a short break back down to a walk so I could get a few sips of water after the first 6 laps, but that only lasted 30 seconds at the most.  Then it was back up to 5.3 for the last few laps.  Guess that was asking too much.  Still, I was finished in 30 minutes, albeit in agony.

So, no cross training swim tonight (sniff).  Just rest for tonight and tomorrow so I can attempt the run on Saturday morning.  How depressing that my body is breaking down on me even when I'm trying to tune it back up to pre-partying days shape.  I suppose the old adage is never so more true than with me:  your body is your temple--use it and it won't let you down.  Don't, and suffer the consequences.  This is not my idea of being a martyr!

Ain't no sunshine when I run....

Week 3

Sorry for the delay about Saturday mornings 3 mile jaunt through the drizzle/light rain/puddles the size of small lakes, but we hosted a Super Bowl Party Sunday night and I was in no mood to write yesterday!  But after 12 hours of blissful rest I'm ready to share our slogging triumph through the water-logged streets of The Fan.  We were early arrivals so not to miss the warm-up with the rest of the die-hard trainees.  We all looked rather miserable doing calisthenics in a steady light rain, cold and wet with nothing to look forward to except puddle dodging for the next 45 or so minutes.  This trip had us running up Main Street through the restaurant district of the Fan, cutting over onto Meadow Street until we hit Monument Avenue then back down through VCU and Monroe Park and across Belvedere back to the Jefferson parking lot.  Staci's iPod wasn't charged so I gave her mine since my hands were too numb to try and make it work.  Again we started from the rear as I left her to her own devices so I could find a spot where I wasn't surrounded and hemmed in.

I suppose our weekly runs at the gym are beginning to pay off.  Neither of us stopped unless forced to do so by traffic.  Seems once I get into that rhythm, I just keep rolling along although my feet were soaked almost immediately from unsuccessful attempts at hurdling  giant puddles that Richmond's sewer system just can't seem to drain very well.  Aside from my squishy, now probably ruined $100 running shoes, I was able to pound out the 3 miles in a little over 30 minutes I'm guessing.  Not stopping definitely speeds up the time of getting the run over with.  Our trainers are telling us to fight through such an urge; mind over matter (in my case, a LOT of matter).  Yes a girl passed me again, but I weigh twice as much as her so I don't feel too bad.  I even made it up the hill the last 100 yards offered as a finale, oddly remember my first mile run when I hit the wall and could not do it.  Guess this running thing is starting to provide some endurance as well?

Yes, I was tired as hell when it was over but my legs were not screaming in agony as before. I caught my breath fairly quickly and waited for wifey and one of our 20-something friend to show up (she decided to run with us instead of her other location for fun).  She showed up about five minutes after me and Staci another five after that.  Again, the wife was ever so thrilled of not having to stop at all even though her pace was not terribly quick--at least she is making it the whole way through after never thinking in a million years she was ever capable of such a feat!  We both marveled that it wasn't even 9 am yet and we were already done.  I was ready for a celebratory breakfast.

Nothing really more to relate about the run--it went faster than expected even if the weather was nasty and dreary.  One day Spring may actual come and we won't have to make these runs on bone-chilling mornings with rain or fog or 19 degrees.  Our bodies seem to be handling this exercise better than prior weeks.  We're recuperating faster and not walking like elderly stroke victims as much.  Oh I still feel it if I've sat for too long and I've yet to see my scale not spin three times really fast before setting on my gross tonnage amount but all in all I think this training gig is working.  Like I said before, sleeping has become a bonified pleasure and almost instantaneous since we are more physically spent.  Waking up is not as painful when the alarm goes off, if I haven't already beaten it with the sun.  Staci's been trying to cook more healthful meals as we await our nutritionists recommendations.

Else, the weekend with the kiddies went splendidly.   I took them to the Virginia Historical Society's new Civil War interactive exhibit on Sunday before the game. Allison was able to get herself as an escaped slave to safety of the Union lines.  Lauren had me running all over the place explaining 10,000 years of Virginia history.  I made sure our party had plenty of Jamison's.  Hence, Monday's 2.5 mile light run was put off because my friends had many, MANY reasons to toast something or someone.  Staci's food was a pure hit--nothing left but a few bowls of chili.    Lots of beer left over, too.  How odd!

Well, Wednesday we'll be back on track as wifey explained we're not supposed to make up runs we missed without having the rest day in between. So we'll just have to enjoy an extra "off" day before resuming our training schedule.  No worries, I'm not dreading the workouts as I did when my body was ever-aching.  Dare I say I'm actually looking forward to them?  Egads, I have lost my mind!

Swimming definitely ain't what it used to be!

I was finally able to cross-train at the gym's sweet pool last night, albeit without the company of wifey.  With new swim trunks and goggles in tow I headed straight to the lockers by the lap lanes and breathed in the memory inducing wafts of chlorinated salt-water.  Now for those of you who didn't know, ol' Art here was a fairly accomplished swimmer back in the glory years of 1972-1983.  My summer league team at the Country Club of Fairfax saw me swim in every division, from 8-Under to 15-18 age groups. From a neophyte that had my mom throw me onto the team as a wee seven year old that had to hold his breath to swim a lap of freestyle, to a blue-ribbon regular winner, setting team and league records whilst building a wonderful rapport with friends and parents that saw me grow up.  I was even scouted and swam on my college team until beer and girls seemed a more worthwhile pursuit!

Anyway, enough of the glory days.  Last night saw me take to an empty lap lane and start counting my laps in a variety of strokes.  I've never swum in a salt-water pool before and science is right, it is more buoyant.  I had a hard time trying to make my complete pull under water in breast stroke before popping back to the surface.  Not that many noticed; the place maybe had ten people in it, not including the 3 lifeguards on duty, each staring into oblivion.  Good to know some things never change!   My first few laps were a snap.  Swimming is like riding a bike, once you learn you never forget--well the mind never forgets that is.  The body has a whole different take on such things.  My mind told my arms and legs what to do from the years of practice and the thousands of laps I've logged, but after ten minutes or so my arms simply didn't want to stretch as far nor pull as hard nor move me as fast.  What the heck?

I recalled a race I swam many moons ago about tightening up on the home lap of a race and the fear and dread of possibly not being able to finish without being disqualified, let alone win.  Thankfully this flashback was not gonna cause me any real consternation other than the now omnipresent reminder that I am a middle-aged oaf  and that I cannot do what I once did or took for granted.  I huffed and puffed my way to a rest after the end of 8 straight laps marveling at the sheer magnitude of my out of shapeness.  Maybe my legs are toning from all the miles put in over these last couple of weeks but the upper body is in sever need of an overhaul.  Weightlifting aside, there is no better overall workout that uses as many muscles as a good swim.  My latissimi dorsi were screaming.  My arms wouldn't go all the way over my head.  I was instinctively stretching my shoulders across my body trying in vain to loosen up.  Sweat beads were popping up on my shoulders, I sure sign I was doing something right.  Of course, my rapid breathing and pulse could have told me that, too!

Once I calmed down enough to try some more, off I went again but now the laps were slower and more labored.  I did my goal of 20 and said enough of that!  I made a point to explore the other amenities the pool had to offer such as the giant whirlpool enclosure and impressive 20-seat hot tub.  I didn't go down the water slide tube although tempted (no they won't let you go down head first!).  The whirlpool has these big pipes that create a circular current that I guess you are supposed to walk against to strengthen your thighs and balance.  Instead, I floated along with is as if an otter at play.  Once I tired of that I waded over to the hot tub which had just a few people in it.  It was way hotter than expected.  No wonder the entire pool area felt like I sauna.  The overflow actually ran into the wading area so that answered my question about the pleasant water temperature all around.  15 minutes of water-jet propulsion bliss and I was spent.

I was hot, tired and relaxed all at the same time.  Getting dressed again proved to be a chore since balance and strength tend to wane when one is so jello-y.  The cool night air wasn't minded in the least as I returned to the car for the five minute drive home.   Staci was no where to be seen--still working on an upgrade for her systems at work, so I made a sandwich for dinner and watched The Runaways.  The chick from Twilight is a dead ringer for Joan Jett.  Staci came home after 8 and immediately headed up to the office to work until 3 am.  So no cross-training for her before our 3 mile run tomorrow.  I just hope I behave for the Super Bowl party we're hosting since our mileage will increase next week yet again.  These "off" days are way too few and far between, unless that is, you work for Suntrust!

Conquering a Treadmill 101

I had every intention of going back to running the track last night for our 2.5 mile "easy" jog but, alas, there were two treadmills lying empty side-by-side, so I thought I'd give it another go using Wifey's suggestions.  This time no holding onto the bar so my pulse could be read, just an easy walk followed by a moderate jog.  I walked maybe half a lap before starting in on my run at the 4.7 level.  This time I had Egypt's civil unrest on the TV to entertain me while I listened to my 25 most played songs on my iPod.  Miraculously I somehow found my balance to not drop off the edge and managed a full mile before easting back into a walk to get a chug of water and readjust my iPod that kept having the volume go haywire on me.

Yes, my shins and hips let me know I was trying to haul a pseudo behemoth  along this path to nowhere yet I pushed ahead through the pain as our coaches weekly newsletter urged us on to do.  Again the sweat came tumbling down in rivers, soaking my shirt and shorts in little time.  I tried to stay focused on the TV and my music and only stopped at 2 miles in to a walk to get some more water (note to self: make sure the water bottle has cold water in it--warm water tastes like crap!)

I then did the unthinkable:  I upped the speed level to an even 5-spot that got my mile time to 12 minutes flat (technically).  This I ran for the final 2 laps to make the 2.5 miles in a little over 30 minutes.  Not too bad for a novice I suppose.  Wifey was still a few laps behind me on her treadmill gauge so I walked around to lessen any chance of sudden and devastating cramps.  I'm still amazed at all the 80 pounders running at full tilt on all the different apparatus'; rowing machines, stair masters that take you nowhere, elliptical machines that make you think you're a Nordic ski racer, etc.  I ended up sitting and watching the indoor soccer foreigners play for a bit until Staci finally showed up, red faced and actually sweating almost as bad as me, telling me she managed 2.8 as she wanted to compensate for the extra walking she did.  Oh how proud I am of her!  Two weeks ago she couldn't run a block and now lookie!

Xtend is still our drug of choice when we got home.  I peeled off my nasty clothes and took a quick shower as Staci made a light supper.  Iron Man 2 was REALLY good!  Meanwhile, we're still a bit perturbed that we are not losing any weight--rather gaining!  All that we've read says that we are replacing fat weight with muscle weight and that is supposedly common in new runners.  Staci has solicited a dietitian to look at our meals, which I think are healthy, but she thinks we need to fine-tune.  Great, first I'm sore all the time and now eating is gonna suck!  Guess all the Julia Child cookbooks Staci's been reading voraciously aren't gonna get used anytime soon!

Well, it's off to the pool tonight to cross-train.  Staci has an install to do tonight (thanks Suntrust!) so I'm going solo to the gym this time around.  Probably for the best because I wanna check out all the amenities the pool has to offer besides swimming friggin' laps!  I did that for 12 years and haven't missed it.  Perhaps I can impress with a 3/4 lap of my awesome butterfly before I choke?

Treadmills are NOT my friend

Perhaps it was because I had the speed up too fast (4.7) or was holding onto the handle so the thing could take my pulse, but damn my shins hurt after a two mile run (sometimes walk) initial treadmill experience!  I was sweating like a freshly bred stallion, soaking every piece of clothing as if I'd been dunked in the pool I so longingly wanted to go swimming in.  Staci said I went too fast as I was supposed to take it easy but I was only  trying to find a speed I actually had to jog.  Anything less made me only want to walk.  But the jogging part also had me losing my balance, hence the holding on part (listening to my iPod and trying to watch the Georgetown-Louisville b-ball game while jogging on a foreign piece of equipment must have thrown my balancing center off guard).  She went on to say I was leaning too far forward resulting in my shins taking the brunt of the G-forces from my 1/8th ton frame.

I don't think I was leaning so far forward, it didn't feel like I was but I think I'll stick to running the track even though I'll miss the little beacon telling me how far I was going around the imaginary track on the treadmill display.  Supposedly I was cranking out a 12 and change minute mile but the walking interludes most certainly added to that given my shins were screaming in agony.  Plus, the gym was packed with treadmill and elliptical users.  So much so that we had to wander about for ten minutes before we found two side-by-side to use.  Staci did it right by walking a bit to warm up.  I was more concerned about how to turn the bloody thing on and started running as soon as I got the speed set to what I thought was "easy".  After less than a "lap" I was already beginning to sweat off Saturday nights beer/wine/liquor intake.  By half a mile it was dripping freely into my eyes.  By a mile I was using my sweat rag to wipe off the handles and my arms.  Not long after I dropped it mistakenly by my feet and off it flew behind me.  I thought for surely I'd follow soon afterward.

It was here I had to take a "breather" and walk for a bit, dropping the speed to 2.7.  Sweat was pouring off me like rain drops onto the tread and I began to wonder if the slickness would cause my ultimate embarrassment by having my feet go out from under me at any moment.  I walked for half a "lap" then sped the thing up again to ramming speed.  I dropped it back down again to a walking pace once my shins alerted me that at any moment they would snap like dry kindling.  A quarter "lap" this time.  As the pain subsided I'd go back to jogging, 3/4's of a lap this go round.  This went on for the whole second mile but finally I was over this whole treadmill experience and set the damn speed to 5.something so I could get the 2 miles in and get off the stupid thing.

It was odd to see a Hijab-wearing Muslim girl waiting to take my place on it, but only after I wobbly-wiped the contraption down.  I can only imagine the thoughts going through her head as this big fat sweaty American tried in vain to do so.  By the looks of me, how could it be too hard to overthrow a nation so full of a bunch of gun-toting weebles? I just hope for my sake the Koran doesn't have anything about mandatory use of  treadmills if that ever came to pass!

Staci finished soon after and was not at all as stiff as I was when walking back to the car, so conveniently parked over a block away.  She drove as I suffered.  She had made a big bottle of Xtend for us to share when we got home, so that was a God-send.  A light dinner soon followed after a shower since it was after 8 pm.  Then I giggled to a few Family Guy episodes before calling it a night.  Sleep was instantaneous.

Today is an off day and my shins need it.  Surprisingly, my calf and hip issues aren't as noticeable as before.  Maybe because I have new issues that supersede them?  Regardless, I'm gonna use this day to re-stock the fridge and rest me weary bones before the increase to 2.5 miles on Wednesday. Ugh!  And to think we go 3 miles for Saturdays run!  I'd better get a move on--get busy running or get busy learning Arabic!

Survival of the (un) Fittest

Week 2

Yep, two miles is definitely more than one or 1.5 miles but we survived the 24 degree elements last Saturday morning, albeit we were late for  warm-ups.  Getting used to this eight o'clock arrival when there is no parking in site for many square blocks on end means we will need to set the alarm for predawn and make the 2 mile trek to the "Y" around 7:30 instead.  All wake-up calls and travel snafus aside the 30 seconds of warm-up seemed sufficient as wifey and I  settled into the rear of the 200 person or so pack from the parking lot of The Jefferson.  Again, I needed to break from the claustrophobic morass of high-tech dressed pseudo-runners in their sleek designer, aerodynamic, skin-tight "look at me, I'm  Nouveau Riche" attire.  Meanwhile Staci and I are still donned more or less in PE clothing although we did break down and get her an ear-muff headband thingy and runners gloves (what will the they think of next?) and I sported a new pair of warm-up pants we bought last Friday (and swim goggles and swim suit!) since I got tired having to pick off infinite amounts of dog hair from my VCU sweatpants.  My fleece jacket, however, makes up for that in a big way in the dog hair attracting arena.  It might just be time to groom these hair shedding champions just a bit more, eh?

I had contacted one of the trainers about my never-ending left-calf saga who gave me all the standard advice about warming up and taking it easy.  I don't know about you but when I jog I need to at least run fast enough to give me the impression that I am covering ground in a pseudo-timely fashion.  I just can't do the walk/jog 18 inches at a time trot.  It'd take me 3 hours to go 100 yards. It was cold, I was getting hungry and I needed to make reservations for March Madness In Vegas.  You know, priorities and all.  Again, I left wifey to her own devices and iPod while I set my pace, more or less, in between the frequent stops to walk since the sidewalk was clogged with LOTS of 18 inch striders.  It took maybe a half mile before things thinned out enough that I had my own space and could settle into the beat of my stride.  

Now this lap around Richmond had us heading slightly uphill along Franklin Street through the heart of the Monroe Park campus of VCU toward Stuart Circle then back down the same way on the other side of the street right pass my office.  There were intermittent stops along the way because of traffic but the trainers were all positioned as monitors at the intersections to make sure all could cross without getting squished.  In the beginning, the traffic annoyed me because it would stop me just when I was getting into the rhythm but by the time I was headed back toward home base I got to hoping we'd have to stop just so I could relieve the dull cramping of my hips, since going downhill really accentuates the pounding I was giving them.  I admit I had to walk a couple of times going back for 50 feet or so before picking it back up again.  Pride aside, I really didn't mind girls passing me so long as they didn't snicker at my wheezing.   Eventually I made up my mind to NOT stop anymore unless forced by traffic. 

I'm surprised how many cars were on the road in the eight o'clock hour.  I mean it was Saturday morning.  Weren't most sane people sleeping in or sleeping it off?  Really, how many crappy jobs are there that force people to drive into work on a Saturday early-morning?  No sane person is even going to shop at those types of places before 10:30 at the earliest.  Have a heart crappy job-owners!  Let us partial insane runners/walkers/18-inch striders have some room to operate on these city streets!  Besides nobody has any money to spend.  It's already gone to high-end running apparel  fashion designers and overseas shoe-making sweat shops by the looks of things on my end.  Yes, these are the musings that run through my head as I try to concentrate on anything but my aching lower body as I crossed Belvedere for the second time (good ol' Route 1 for any of you non-Richmonder's out there).  One last moderate downhill incline then a short uphill climb back to the parking lot where trainers were urging us on.  This time I actually fought through the proverbial "wall" and finished in the middle of the pack I guess.  I never noticed the people I passed along the run only that I saw that the parking lot wasn't nearly as full as when we started.  Perhaps some just kept jogging straight to their cars.  Meanwhile I caught my breath and found a curb to stretch my calves while waiting for Staci.  She showed up five or so minutes later beaming that she had run two miles for the first time ever in her life and was raring to run some more if need be.  I was not so gung-ho as her.  I was more interested in finding water and dreaming of how long Xtend would take before repairing my sore legs.


OK, the good news after a week of this self-imposed torture:  My mouth and throat were not nearly as dry and parched as last week, but that may have been from sucking in all the fog that was abundant so early in the morn.  I was able to catch my breath a whole lot faster after finishing--I wasn't a lung cancer patient after all.  My lower extremities, though sore, seemed to recover better now that they are getting used to this 5-times a week abuse.  The walk back to the car was not as pitiful.  Perhaps my legs are getting a tad stronger from all this?  Staci's hamstrings were taut but even she is noticing the Xtend is working toward alleviating that without having to gimp around for two days following a run.   We are both sleeping better and feeling far more rested when awake.  People have noticed are faces are slimmer even though we haven't noticed any weight decline.  Staci has noticed some inches around her middle are disappearing and I confirm that when I hug her--my arms go around her more.  Our recovery time seems to be speeding up, but I still contend that Xtend may be the next miracle drug (thanks Hotzee for your body-building tip!) Most importantly though, I secured flights and rooms at the Tropicana for five days for March Madness in Vegas after breakfast at The Village.


The only bad news to report was our Saturday night bi-monthly celebration whereby our alcohol tolerance levels may now be at an all-time low.  We've made the conscious decision not to drink during the week anymore or when we have the kids, so that leaves only two Saturdays a month to go out and play with all our 20-something friends.  Fridays are out because we have to run so early on Saturdays nowadays.  So now a few glasses of wine, beer, liquor or shots (bury me with a bottle of Jamison's please) has much less resistance to alter thy brain.  Needless to say Sunday was a bust!  Much of it was spent flipping channels between a Mike Tyson Marathon of his early fights, basketball games and movies (Hot Tub Time Machine was WAY funnier than I would have guessed).  Staci has newly sworn never to drink (like that) again. Yes, we still need to grout the new tile in the pantry and the refrigerator is nearly empty.  Most of my energies were spent clipping coupons and doing laundry.  But at least my legs didn't hurt.  I was REM sleeping by 10:30.


Tonight we're supposed to run/walk an easy two miles.  I think I'm gonna try the treadmill with wifey as a change of pace and see how that grabs me.  I'm not very versed on a treadmill and I half expect to be thrown off the back end at some point.  At least it'll have all the fancy gadgets to entertain me and tell me my exact mileage.  Now if someone can tell me how to listen to the TV's  via the radio frequency they profess that would be a major accomplishment.  Else it'll be back to listening to some of the 2300 songs on the old iPod trying NOT to sing out loud or trying to imitate the slew of 90 pound, underweight, excessive calorie burner, they-should-be-studying, pre-20 year old's that think a cupcake will make them go up two dress sizes so I better run 20 miles tonight, future social security/medicare non-receivers. 

No, I'm not bitter.

Kids will do the DARNEDEST things!

So I was all set last night to swim a few laps in the wonderful salt-water pool that most peeps in VCU's gym fail to utilize since it was my "cross-training" day.  All excited, I got home before wifey-poo and whisked through my husbandry chores of emptying the dishwasher, dumping the trash and putting out the bi-weekly recycling that seems to grow exponentially (I can't imagine what my trash would be like if I didn't have a recycling option, but in two weeks we probably recycle more than half our refuse and it is forever overflowing). 

She came home a few minutes after me and was dressed for the gym way before me.  Meanwhile, I was going through my ancient collection of swimwear, none of which fit very well, and digging through the attic to find the pool bag that I thought contained my super-duper cool-guy-look tinted swim racing goggles.  Rather, it contained nothing but ancient pool toys, a variety of mostly used up sun tanning potions and maybe a pound of beach sand and broken sea shells.  I guess my kids thought that I would never need those again when last seen in Holden Beach, NC last July.  Which means I guess I'm going to Dick's Sporting Goods this weekend and finally use my $50 gift card from Xmas that I forgot I had in my wallet to resupply my swim gear. Disgruntled now, I drove us to the gym a couple miles away trying to figure out what cross training device or apparatus I was now going to have to use.  I longingly gazed down at the near-empty pool in passing, bemoaning the fact that my kids lost my goggles and I would have to wait some more before I finally got to take my initial dip. 

Wifey had long since settled on the treadmill to walk her miles while I decided to use the elliptical thingy next to her that sorta resembled a bike with arm swinging things attached.  Modern technology at it's finest I must say for the pro-grammatical contraption actually had a 10K selection, so once I entered all my weight, age and level data I was pumping along while mesmerized by all the statistical data this thing was spitting back at me on it's big panel right in front of me:  Calories burned, time, heart rate, percentages of this and that, miles to go, Mets produced (what the hell is that?), pretty little dots telling me what level of resistance I had to sweat through and for how much longer.  All the while I was jamming away on my iPod to Green Day, Oasis and a bunch of other 90's rock stuff intermingled by the occasional country bumpkin tune or top 100 song from the 60's.  This was way more my speed than having my legs burn in agony limping along the track trying to imitate Roberto Salazar.  Seeing my hockey buddies and talking to them a bit while I explained why they were so shocked to see us in the gym helped kill the time even more.

Don't get me wrong, this machine did make my thighs burn like a mother and I was sweating like a virgin in jail but I was able to churn out six miles in 30 minutes.  Don't ask me what the other stats said, I wasn't in the mood to know that all that working out only burned enough calories to equate to eating a Halloween-sized twix bar.  It was only when I got up did I realize the extent of the damage I did to my thighs.  Yes, I was breathing like a beached flounder but worse was the non-response my thighs were told to do--walk you morons!  At least hold me upright!  Ok, so I had to sit down again and regroup before my second attempt was successful.  Though my calf and back felt better from yesterdays onslaught now I had a whole new joy of dull throbbing leg pain to deal with.  This subsided gradually as I sauntered ever so slowly over to our locker to retrieve our belongings.  I repeated the painfully slow ritual of putting on my sweatpants and fleece jacket while the wife confessed that her non-stretching had produced tight as hell hamstrings from her treadmill walking.  I can only imagine the thoughts going through all the 20-something's heads as they looked at us two decrepit gimps holding onto the stair railings making our way down to the first floor.  Oh, we aim to please!

Actually, we seemed to get better the more we walked it off.  Staci made a wonderful 20-minute supper since it was getting near 8 o'clock by the time we came back home to the dogs.  I fell asleep soon after watching some Cocaine Cowboy documentary on Showtime about some woman Colombian drug-billionaire named the Godmother.  I'll tell you one thing, this training program does make me tired and I sleep like the dead, barely flinching for eight hours before the sun wakes me up in the morning.  So I have that going for me....

Tomorrow is the dreaded TWO mile run--from the Downtown Y up Franklin Street on VCU's campus to Stuart Circle (Confederate cavalry General JEB Stuart for all you history buffs out there) and back again.  We're to go at a steady pace which I pray to God my calf or back or thighs or eyeballs don't shut down prematurely and make me look like a pansy and have to walk with the retirees.  This weeks worth of training BETTER start paying off some dividends soon cuz it's only gonna get worse and so far all I've garnered is a bunch of painful reminders anytime I take a step.  At least my new tub of Xtend came in the mail yesterday.  Maybe if I suck a bunch of that down before, during and after the run I just might be able to make it to the car without crawling?  I'll let you all know how that goes over the weekend if my new power cord actually works at charging my laptop which hasn't worked lo these past six months. ( Note:  buying rip-off knockoffs that advertise they will work just like the manufacturer at half the price is a bunch of bull!  Don't be tempted! )

That's good advice--write that down.

Yes, alcohol abuse will make your body hate you!

Our lovely training regimen had us up our running mileage to 1.5 miles for Wednesday evening.  I guess it's to start increasing our distance and stamina for the coming weeks, but it mights as well have been 150 miles!  Alas, we came home from work, quickly changed and headed right back out to the gym in a snow storm to the chagrin of the dogs who hadn't seen us all day.  How's that for dedication?  True, we do have a 4-wheel drive Suburban that can climb mountains in a blizzard (that was put to the test when we came home from Boone, NC a few years ago!) but it would have been SO much easier to sit and watch the snow fall in the comfort of our 1920's Victorian 4-square with scalding radiator heat drying our skin out even more.

I was feeling good--no soreness to speak of since I had a day of rest and was almost resigned to the fact I could do this without too much agony. Staci (aka Wifey) was gonna run the treadmill instead of the indoor track at our gym (VCU's Cary Street Gym boasts the largest amount of gym equipment under one roof in the whole state of Virginia) while I was going to continue my so-called mastery of the track.  I re-calculated the laps to 13 in my head and again mimicked the stretching exercises that the "in-shape" runners were doing.

This time I brought a water bottle that I strategically placed in the corner in case dry-mouth set in then began my "easy" 1.5 mile jog.  I plugged my iPod into my ears jammin' to 80's hair band rock (please stifle your giggles) and off I went.   The first lap was a breeze setting my pace and dodging the walkers on the track that think walking three abreast is ok.  Again the speed runners whisked by me including girls that had this running thing done pat.  I looked very much the novice trying to focus on Poison songs and counting my laps while trying not to jam up the traffic.  By the second lap my breathing rate had intensified to lung cancer patient and by the third the sweat began pouring freely from my brow as if I was taking a test I hadn't studied for!

Now I thought my leg muscles had started to get used to this abuse but as I continued to pound away on them aided by my hard-earned 40 lbs bourbon gut to help intensify their agony, my left calf began sending an oh-so familiar pain signal through my basil ganglia to my cerebral cortex letting me know very plainly that it was not a happy camper.  Add to it that for some reason my lower back began to ache from the pounding and that had never happened before.  It wasn't premenstrual cramps nor failure to wear a weight belt.  My ass is flat out of shape!  I mean, who hurts themselves RUNNING?  Aren't we humans perfectly modeled bi-peds, evolutionarily descended from apes or God's image (or whatever floats your boat) to be able to run without torture?  This just sucks!

I managed to gimp my way a mile before stopping to suck down a few gulps from my strategically placed water bottle to lessen the severity of the Gobi Desert now residing in my throat, interrupted at regular intervals to inhale, gulp, then exhale in rapid succession.  I was sweating rather steadily by now, black lycra VCU-emblem running shirt thankfully hiding the true degree of water loss only because it is colored black.   I needed to figure out this awful reality of mine by joining the walker group for a couple of laps and pretending to fix my iPod.  Two laps later I had recouped enough to try and stagger back into line with the joggers, this time elongating my stride in an attempt to lessen the severity of newly acquired back pain and hurry the hell up the last few laps to get in the 1.5 mile distance.  My legs didn't want to do this but mind over matter prevailed, sorta, as I forced them back into the rhythm I had them going previously.

I suppose it was mission accomplished, but I felt rather dejected.  I didn't run the complete time.  My aged body cheated me out of what I was hoping would be a lighthearted stroll through the snow back to the Suburban.  Rather, I found the wife beaming at her 1.55 mile accomplishment on the treadmill in 27 minutes, once I limped my ragged ass over to her through the throngs of fit nubiles running along at top speed or peddling away on stationary bikes as if in the Tour de France (ok, I did see a FEW fatties, but not enough to make the odds even! And why weren't they sweating like me anyway?? Must be a pacing thing.) I sat and listened to her exulting the fact she had never done such ever before.  I professed my pride in her as I struggled to put my warm-up pants back over my shoes and sweat(y) shorts.  This was a struggle I rather not have had to do in public but oh well.  Balance was the furthest thing from my mind.  All I was looking forward to was getting back to my couch at home and not moving for the foreseeable future.

No Advil, Aleve or Xtend awaited me at home cuz we're all out.  Just pain, soreness and dull hunger pangs.  Jonah Hex was not the movie I had hoped for either.  Bedtime was never so welcomed!  At least tonight we're scheduled for "cross-training"--anything other than running.  Thank GAWD!  The gym has this ridiculously sized salt-water swimming pool with lap lanes, whirlpools, hot tubs and even a water slide with waterfall.  I plan to test them all out as if I was ten years old again, that is, if my body will allow it.  The plan is to swim 20 laps.  I'll let ya know how THAT goes tomorrow.  By the way, where are my goggles and do I even own a bathing suit that fits?  Last thing I wanna do is look like a Jersey shore beach bum with a beer gut wearing a flower-paisley 70's bathing suit with built-in belt buckle and white socks stuffed in brown sandals!

Let the training (and pain!) begin

January 25, 2011

Week 1

So to knock off a bucket list item from my life's "to-do's", my wife and I decided to embark on a ten week journey to train for the Richmond 10K this April.  I blog this in an attempt to share the agony and joys (?) of such an endeavor.

First some background:  Since I've been re-married, life has been one never-ending party trying to catch up on the 15 year absence between the last time we saw each other back in our college days.  Nine years of drinking and eating has put on a 40 lbs bulge that just doesn't want to go away on it's own.  Hanging with 20-somethings that can eat and drink whatever they choose doesn't make for good role models, although we try our best to teach them how it was done back in our glory days in the 80's.  Now we're in our mid-forties and trying desperately not to age before our time!  But the old waist line isn't forgiving to the abuse I've bestowed.  And then to see my friends of all ages running in these races, I'm like "Why can't I do that?"  I was an athlete once upon a time!  Of course my body hadn't seen any regular exercise other than the occasional, and very sporadic trip to the gym since the last time I played a real game of basketball in 1991!  An early marriage and 3 kids kinda of put a damper on stuff like playing sports for fun.

So with the urging of one of our 20-something friends whose been running these things for a few years after experiencing similar issues (the names have been omitted to protect the innocent), we paid our fees and made the decision to see this thing through until the end.  My brothers birthday, January 22nd,  was our official indoctrination to the Sportsbacker's 10K Training Program at the ungodly hour of 8 am on a Saturday morning at the downtown YMCA, meaning no Friday night drinking!  Egads!  Add to it, the weather was a balmy 19 degrees.  Oh what fun!

I was fairly surprised to see 300 or so other participants in our "Novice" group join us to get the low down from our trainers and do some warm-up calisthenics.  We did some stretches, some deep knee bends, some jumping jacks; standard fare to get the old heart pumping and to ensure none of our sinews snapped once we dared the cold to run a slow mile.  Now I hadn't run ten feet in the last 20 years so attempting an entire mile had me a tad nervous.  The warm-up alone had my thighs burning and sweat dripping inside my 3 layers of clothing that I was told to wear.  I was hoping that was the extent of the morning's training but no.  So I actually enjoyed the blast of Arctic air to cool me down when I walked outside.

The first part of the morning jog along with 300 others was downhill so I was psyched into thinking this was gonna be a breeze.  Once I got free of the jam of people I settled into a nice easy pace leaving the wife and some other female friends to fend for themselves.  I was on a mission!  Even when we headed uphill to the only major intersection we had to face I was still breathing easily.  No sweat.  Once across we made a lap around Monroe Park and headed back down toward the "Y".  It was this return lap that my left calf began to alert me to the fact that I hadn't properly stretched it fully.  My repaired right Achilles tendon from a volleyball fiasco from a few years ago was feeling just fine.  Meanwhile my left was tightening up quicker than a used rubber band!  My breathing was definitely becoming more labored and the stop at the intersection was my saving grace to recoup for the final quarter mile push.

Despite the brief respite and the downhill portion of the final quarter mile, I hit the proverbial "wall" when I had to run the last 100 yards uphill.  I was spent, beaten, screaming for air and a leg splint!  I doubt it took more than 15 minutes to make the entire mile lap, but I felt like it was 15 days.  I had no spit in my mouth.  My lips felt like cracked tissue paper.  My heart was beating faster than a hummingbirds.  My legs screamed in agony of having 250 lbs. repeatedly pound them into the ground.  Only my feet wrapped in glorious $100 brand new running shoes gave me no grief.  The rest of me was a complete wreck!

I sipped a bit of water although swallowing was now a real chore.  I stretched repeatedly while waiting for my wife to show up, cursing the condition I had allowed my body to become!  By the time I had cooled down my legs didn't want to work properly as I tried to get to my car a few blocks away.  The pain would become a dull throb for the rest of the day and it wasn't even 9 am yet!

So last Sunday was an "off" day to rest and recuperate although house chores still held sway.  Re-tiling and caulking the pantry was already on the "to-do" list with painting still to come.  The wife took care of the tiling since she's a regular Tim the Tool man Taylor.  I was on a ladder for two hours in a 5x5 space caulking every separation between ancient lumber.  If it weren't for Aleve, icy-hot and Xtend bodybuilding supplement I don't think I would have even gotten outta bed.  It was all we could do to make it upstairs to bed by 10 pm, looking and acting very much our age.

Funny thing was Monday I felt way better than I would have thought, knowing that we were suppose to run another mile on our own as part of the ongoing training regimen.  I had slept like a baby and actually beat the alarm by a few minutes.  My legs, and in particularly my left calf/Achilles, felt a WHOLE lot better so I was actually looking forward to seeing how long it would take me running before my body reminded me that I was a complete idiot for trying to damage me anymore beyond what it had already warned me about last Saturday.  Wifey and I hit the indoor track at the gym around 6 pm since it was already dark outside.  We did our stretching exercises, mimicking all the 20-something gym-rats who looked like they needed to eat more and work out less!  How come you never see any fat people in a gym (except me, of course!)?  Everyone in there looked like they were putting on their finishing touches for their Vogue modeling shoot the next day.  And yet they were burning every last calorie out of their tiny bodies. Wasn't anybody other than me hungry?  It was dinner time for Pete's sake!

It's 8 laps and change to run a mile on this track, depending on which lane you run in.  I was determined to run the whole distance without stopping.  Wifey decided to run/walk the thing so not to overdo it as recommended by our coaches.  So I counted my laps by repeating in my head every lap I was currently running on every fourth beat.  Ten or so minutes later I was amazingly exhausted, sweat-drenched, parched like the Sahara but finished nine laps without stopping!  I can ride a stationary bike for 30 minutes clocking six or seven miles and never felt this spent.  It took me five minutes of stiff-legged searching to find a damn water fountain, which of course was downstairs and hidden in an obscure corner.  By the time I returned to search for my wife (who I lapped three times while she walked/jogged) she was finished and looking for me.

We had both finished our first training item on our ten-week course since the initial meet and greet (and run).  Yes, my legs were again jello as we made our way back to the car, not a half and hour since I parked it, but feeling like I had just worked out for days.  More Gatorade, Xtend and Aleve followed as part of our dinner.  My legs slowly warmed to the idea I was helping to medicate them and sleep was never so wanted in all my life.  All I wanted was to put my legs in a position where I wouldn't have to move them (or at least FEEL them) for the next eight hours.  Mission accomplished!  Today is a rest day and again my legs are not killing me but they do let me know occasionally that they are not happy with me.  Tomorrow we up the distance to 1.5 miles (horrors!) and Thursday is a cross-training day--anything other than running.  All this to lead up to the TWO mile run on Saturday.   I can already hear my body wanting to strike.